


A Strange Fate

by Rhiw



Category: Borderlands, Tales From Borderland
Genre: ABO version of Misogyny, Alpha Jack, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Amputation, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Assault, Atlas Rhys, Attempted Kidnapping, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Autofellatio, BMF!Jack, BMF!Rhys, Bad Dirty Talk, Bad People Falling in Love, Bathroom Sex, Bloodplay, But only a little, Car Sex, Cheating, Closet Sex, Consensual Underage Sex, Dark Rhys, Devious Rhys, Dubious Consent, F/F, F/M, Falling In Love, Knotting, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, Murder, Not Famous Jack, Omega Rhys, Oral Sex, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Jack, Programmer Jack, Promethea-born Rhys, Prostitution, Public Sex, Rhys and Vaughn are Bros For Life, Rhys is not a whore, Rough Sex, Self-Fisting, Semi-Public Sex, Sex for Favors, at the beginning, grey morality, questionable morals, teeny, tiny bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-05
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 22:28:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 11
Words: 47,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5644129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhiw/pseuds/Rhiw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The whores that raise Rhys give him a going away present before he leaves Promethea for a long and rewarding career with Atlas; a chance to loose his 'v' card with a rather attractive Alpha delegate visiting from Hyperion. After a pleasant night, Rhys is pretty sure that's that. But then he keeps meeting the man. Again. And again. And again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Promethea, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Yeah,” Rhys said, embarrassed – but only slightly – at the croak in his voice. The Alpha paused mid strip, eyebrow raised.
> 
> “You even legal?”
> 
> He grinned, barely biting back the laugh he was too afraid to voice. “I’m legal enough for Promethea.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will be a part of a longer series if there is interest (I keep starting new stories to help me get past this MASSIVE writers block I have with my other Roux series). One-shot for my friend for Christmas. Merry Christmas and - since it's late - Happy New Years! Warning: Rhys is 17, Jack is 24, and everything is consensual.

Rhys was born on a particularly cold night (which, on Promethea, really was all about personal standards as it was always freezing on that rocky ball of ice) during one of the worst blizzards ever recorded. Because of this, the only thing present besides his mother was a particular, prim Claptrap which had shortened its handle of ‘Medical AI Claptrap 24.678490012- Epsilon’ to Epsi. The birth had been messy, his Beta mother struggling through narrow, thin hips unsuited for carrying, to delivery her equally narrow, thin Omega-son.

His father – a tall, brisk man nicknamed ‘Bull’ for his hulking frame, was in the midst of one of his six month tours down in the Atlas mines. There had been a birthing plan (which consisted solely of limping down to the local doctor's hut when contractions hit) but by then the three-day strong blizzard made that impossible. His mother had stayed alive long enough to give him a name – Rhys Waylon Summerset – before passing quietly away from blood loss. Epsi had done its job, pumping as much colostrum from the dead woman as it could before caring for the newborn for a week straight; until the storm finally abetted and the doctor arrived. Rhys had for the most part been fine. He had been screaming so loudly that he apparently could be heard from outside of their tiny home, but he was clean and well fed from the formula Epsi made, and outside of the dead body, all had been well.

Rhys had spent the following two months before his Alpha-father finally returned surface-side being raised at the local whorehouse, passed from breast to breast by Beta-female and Omega alike. Bull hadn’t really seen anything wrong with that set up; he was old fashioned, having only married Rhys' mother to calm his mating urges, and like most Alphas from his era would have preferred an Omega-mate. But Omegas – of any gender – were only just as rare as their Alpha counterparts (less still, though, than Alpha-females) and he'd liked the idea of Rhys being raised amongst his gender.

Despite this apparent lack of care for his mother, Rhys had nothing but fond memories of his father. Bull had always been absurdly gentle with his tiny Omega-son and Rhys remembered the time with his father kindly. He loved the whore house, too. There were few other Omegas to be found on Promethea besides those who worked and lived at the whorehouse, and it soothed his childish mind on some instinctual level to be so close to his own kind. Besides, the whores were nice. Well. To him. Rhys had grown up amongst violence, slurping happily around a tit as he watched some Alpha or Beta get gutted for being too rough, too rude, or – the worst sin of all – failing to pay.

So while Rhys had been understandably upset when his father had died down in the mines (hardly surprising, Atlas miners had a survival ratio of about 58.8% - in the wrong direction), but he also had a houseful of cooing and worried whores to sooth his fears. By that time, everyone had gotten used to having Rhys around – having nursed him, taught him to walk and speak alongside their own spawn - that it had never been a question if he was going to stay even if no one was paying them any longer to house him. And what Rhys may have lacked in a father figure was made up by the burly Alpha-bouncers, who took a particular shine to the little Omega-boy that followed them about like a shadow. They protected them like he was their own, to the extent that one time – and it had only happened once – that someone made an approach on Rhys, so filled with youth and the bizarre innocence that all Promethean kids had, all chubby cheeks and little curls, bright fawn-like eyes – that they’d skinned the man alive once they’d found him with Rhys in the closet.

The offending Alpha's corpse and skin hung independent of each other, like some kind of macabre flag, in front of the whorehouse until they’d fallen from rot. Instead of fear, Rhys only felt love at the act, sucking on a candy as he was balanced on Sarah’s (the whorehouse’s madam) hip, and watched the process. Word was out after that, even to the newcomers. The children were untouchable, in every way.

Shortly after he’d been enrolled in the private Atlas run academy (it was perhaps the biggest irony of Promethea, that the very children who put their noses up and spit at the whorehouse kids couldn’t afford to go themselves) and he’d quickly excelled. Enough so that he’d actually skipped four grades and been entered into their exclusive programming and cybernetics program, which was aimed at putting kids onto the fast track of the Atlas cooperate ladder. His horde of adopted aunts, uncles, grandmothers and grandfathers couldn’t have been prouder.

And when it came time that Rhys decided to lose his virginity? Well, the whores had that covered too. He was seventeen and about to leave for one of Atlas’ run universities – he’d gotten a full scholarship, as long as he agreed to pay them back with five years of his time – and Rhys didn’t want to go off into the unknown with his ‘V’ card still intact. The room was lit only by an honest to god wood burning fireplace, the decant atmosphere only added to by the gold and sapphire colored drapes that cascaded from a center point on the ceiling down the walls.

The mammoth king’s size bed was done up similarly in golden silks and Rhys was stretched out across it, delighting in the soft feeling against his chest and legs, dressed only in a pair of tight, black boyshorts that played up the swell of his ass. Rhys may be skinny as hell, but he curved in all the places that Omegas were supposed to, and it seemed like the only excess fat he carried rested in his rear. It was rare to be so close to naked on Promethea, the planet’s harsh weather demanding layers even during its summer, but the room was kept toasty warm. He’d been bathed and groomed carefully; any excess hair shaved away, eyebrows forced into a graceful arch, hair loose but orderly. The pampering was amazing. The entire thing must have cost a fortune, but when it came to their Rhys popping his cherry, it seemed his extended family was willing to go all out.

Honestly, it filled the Omega’s heart something terrible.

Rhys was eating chocolate covered cherries _(heh),_ legs up in the air behind him and crossed at the ankles, pre-reading through one of his more challenging programming textbooks in a hope to get a jump on the competition, when the door finally opened. He glanced up from his book, blinking owlishly. He’d been enjoying himself so much that Rhys had almost forgotten why he was here to begin with. There was a soft click as the door was shut and Rhys rolled ungracefully onto his back, hands stretched above his head, still grasping his text book, mind caught up in the equations.

At the first sight of the man they’d procured for him, that changed rather abruptly.

Rhys swallowed far too obviously as he took in the Alpha (and he was an Alpha, that much was clear from his stance alone). He was a tall brunet, with mismatched eyes – one a bright blue, the other an equally bright green – that raked over Rhys’ body unashamedly. He stood casually, one hand in his pocket, thumb resting on the outside, the other wrapped around a tumbler of whiskey. The Omega tried not to shiver as he took in thick forearms and broad shoulders. Alphas almost stereo-typically looked monstrously strong, driven by instincts to put on muscles and beef up, but this one looked _vicious,_ even if he wasn’t the largest one Rhys had ever seen.

He was also wearing a bright, goldenrod yellow sweater – one that bore the unmistakable stylized **_H_ ** of the Hyperion cooperation. Rhys couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of it. Sarah had a wicked sense of humor, arranging for Rhys’ first to be from a rival company. The Promethea Atlas branch was playing host to this year’s technology expo, which drew representatives from all of the major cooperations.

The Alpha’s expression narrowed, lips pulling back in a snarling smile. “Something funny, kiddo?”

Rhys instantly sobered, shaking his head as he felt another shiver run down his spine. Growing up in a whorehouse had gifted Rhys with a rather excellent ability to read men, and this one? This was not one to fuck with and he’d fought back a jolt of panic, wondering just what the _hell_ Sarah had been thinking, making his first time with such a shark?

“You’re a virgin, right? Cause I sure as hell paid for a virgin.”

…and that explained that. Virgins went for top dollar menu-wise, and an off-worlder like this Hyperion guy? Well, Sarah would have taken him for all that he was worth. But it was hard for Rhys to be mad, not when the Alpha looked like he’d walked straight out of one of Rhys’ wet dreams.

“Yeah,” Rhys said, embarrassed – but only slightly – at the croak in his voice. The Alpha paused mid strip, eyebrow raised.

“You even legal?”

He grinned, barely biting back the laugh he was too afraid to voice. “I’m legal enough for Promethea.”

Rhys belatedly realized he still had his textbook in his hands, rolling onto his side to stretch out and put it on the side table. He finished his roll until he was off the bed completely, walking over to the dresser where a bottle of pink champagne was waiting for him. He ran his fingers over the sloppily written note that was resting just inside fondly. It was from Thomas, one of the bouncers who’d been working there the longest, a little something of encouragement and a reminder that one shout was all that was needed to bring him in swinging. The idea that the burly Alpha was waiting outside – ready to come save him if needed – was all that was necessary to breathe fresh life into Rhys’ flagging courage.

He poured a flute for himself only, remembering that the Alpha still had his drink, and took a deep drink. He refilled it again before turning, the glass freezing against his lips with the sight of the Alpha much closer than before. At some point he’d cleared the bed and was now standing steps behind him, leafing through his text book. “Kind of heavy reading for a whore.”

“You know what they say about assumptions,” he snarked back and then immediately regretted it, pushing into the dresser in an attempt to escape the scathing glare his words earned him.

“So this how this is gonna be?” The Alpha asked around a sneer, “I didn’t pay all that dough for a shrinking violet.”

“No,” Rhys said back, annoyed and aware it reflected by his pissy tone, “you paid for a _virgin._ You want someone a little bit more ‘full package?’ Fine, let me just go grab someone for you.”

He’d be damned if his first time was going to be full of being berated by a fucking _Hyperion_ lackey, goddamn’t.

He barely made it a few steps before he was being yanked back harshly by his wrist, the feel of the naked expanse of his back queer against the butter soft cotton of the Alpha’s sweater. A hand curled around his neck, the grip firm and not without its threat, and Rhys went obediently still, head tilting deferentially to expose the long, lean line of his neck. There was the foreign feeling of nose being pressed against his pulse point, lips at his neck, and Rhys bit back a whine at how the feel of it made his cock plump and his hole leak.

“Fuck, princess. You smell good.” Rhys nodded, his own eyes flickering shut as he took a deep inhale. The Alpha’s scent was everywhere this close; potent and strong, something dark and hot that made a matching emotion blossom in his gut. A hand slid across his ribs, fanning out over his flat stomach, stroking his non-existent abs before curling into a light hold just above his navel. “You clean?”

“You know I am,” Rhys breathed, slightly offended. They both had to be, for Sarah to even do business with either. He arched his back, pressed his ass back into the cradle of the Alpha’s hips as he let his head rest against one of those strong shoulders, peering up at the man from beneath thick lashes. It was a move that Rhys had copied (and practiced) from watching the whores, and his breath hitched at the way it made the Alpha’s hands tighten possessively, pupils blooming wide in mismatched eyes. “I’ve got an implant as well.”

There’d be no chances of babies, not when Rhys had his whole life waiting for him. That was the story of too many Omegas and Rhys wasn’t willing to follow them. He had _plans._

He bit his lip, body quivering around a moan as the hand on his stomach slipped lower, fondling his half-hard cock before dipping even lower. Rhys gasped, body arching harder as fingers slipped back further into his already wet hole, shuddering. He’d never had anyone’s fingers in there but his own and the Alpha’s was just so much _bigger._

“You like that, sweetheart?” The Alpha growled out and Rhys was relieved to hear his own voice sound just as ragged as he felt. At least he wasn’t the only one affected. “Fuck yeah you do.” The Alpha answered for himself, “look at how creamy you are already.” The fingers inside wiggled. “Just from this.”

Rhys nodded, unashamed. He was a virgin, he refused to be ashamed of how quickly he became aroused or came tonight. “You feel so big,” he admitted, willing to pander to the Alpha if it meant that wonderful stretch would continue, “you –” he broke off in a breathless mew as a third was slipped inside, “ – you’re so much bigger than my fingers.”

There was a harsh breath against his neck as Rhys clenched down. A  _"shit, kiddo,”_ was the only warning he got before Rhys was suddenly lifted and tossed onto the bed, the Alpha towering over him, expression intense. Rhys blushed even as he stretched out, putting all his lean lines on display, legs parting just right to highlight his obvious arousal. The Alpha licked his lips, eyes never breaking from Rhys form as he pulled the sweater free and undid his tie. His shirt went next and the speed he undressed would have Rhys laughing if his breath hadn’t been utterly stolen by the sight of the Alpha’s flat stomach and deep six pact, that tantalizing ‘v’ of muscle and the very hint of a dark patch of curls peaking above his waist line.

The Alpha crawled onto the bed and over Rhys, like some giant cat, his thumbs hooking under the boyshorts and pulling them free. The Omega whined, thighs clenching together instinctively. Hands pried them loose, making Rhys’ face heat hotly as his flushed prick and shiny thighs were put on display. “Don’t do that.” The Alpha breathed, eyes locked on Rhys’ bobbing cock. “Trust me, kitten, you’ve got nothing to be ashamed of.” Fingers ghosted up his dick, making it twitch. “Not with such a pretty little cock. You ever been sucked?”

“N-No,” Rhys managed, throat very dry at the idea alone, “when I said virgin, I meant…”

The Omega faded off, eyes widening at the almost feral look that took the Alpha’s face. Without another word he ducked down and engulfed half of his cock in his mouth. Rhys shrieked, the sound loud and shocked, jack-knifing into a curl, hands tangling in the Alpha’s straight hair. Immediately he tried to free them – he hadn’t been told he could touch, it was _dangerous_ – but it was so had to think. Rhys had never felt anything like this before. The Alpha’s mouth was so _warm_ and _wet,_ a perfect suction around his head and shaft – and oh god, his _tongue._ He had cried out again as fingers slid into ass, but with no name the only thing that came to mind was the man’s endotype.

“Al- _Alpha!”_

There was a groan around his cock and suddenly the suction intensified, the fingers inside him twisting and twisting until – Rhys saw stars, arching in the complete opposite direction, connected to the Alpha only by his mouth and fingers, hands flying back to tangle in the sheets. He came seconds later, sobbing aloud at the strength of it. The Alpha surged up, claiming his panting mouth, and Rhys melted into it, knotting muscles still locked around the man’s fingers.

He hadn’t meant to kiss; that was something Rhys had meant to save for someone else – for someone important, something more personal than just a hookup in his childhood whorehouse. But Rhys couldn’t help it. He curled his arms around the other man’s shoulders, lips giving away pliantly to the questing tongue. He tasted something bitterly-salty (his own release, Rhys realized headily) as the Alpha’s tongue explored his mouth as if he owned it.

He broke the kiss, pushing away from the flush looking Alpha, when it all became too much. He kept his eyes closed, breathing heavily, hands resting limp against the man’s back. How could he have not have known? How could Rhys have not have understood? No wonder all these men and women came here and paid so much. And that hadn’t even been sex. The fingers inside him began pumping again and Rhys writhed on the bed, mewing and whimpering, nails biting into skin as his over-sensitive passage was worked. The thick pads brushed over something inside Rhys – that same spot that had driven him so quickly to release before – and Rhys’ eyes snapped open in shock.

To find the Alpha watching him, mismatched eyes intense.

“That the spot, sweetheart?” He cooed, fingers rubbing over it again and again until Rhys was a sobbing mess, tears clumping his eyelashes thickly. Rhys nodded with a whine, simultaneously trying to grind down and away from the tantalizing too-much pleasure. “That’s it, babe. Gotta get you nice and relaxed for me if you’re gonna take my knot.”

The idea in that moment was too much, too much in the face of such pleasure, with Rhys’ cock leaking nonstop against his stomach, and he _couldn’t look away._ He felt trapped by those eyes, his own locked into place, and why the hell did everything feel so _intimate._ This wasn’t – this hadn’t been what Rhys had signed on for. He thought he’d get a quick, fulfilling fuck, not…not whatever this was. His grip tightened, as did his whole body, and he blinked hard, tears swelling and trailing down his cheeks as he came again.

“Fuck, you’re pretty.” The Alpha breathed, swooping down to claim Rhys’ lips in a kiss that made his toes curl. He broke away only when both were utterly breathless, and leaving an already panting Rhys heaving for air with dark tunnels to his sight. “Now come on, baby boy. One more.”

One more turned into two, than three, until Rhys was an utter wreck, skin flushed bright red and hot to touch, thighs and cheeks so slick that they slid uncomfortably, until he was quivering and shaking, pushing frantically at the man’s soaked fingers, desperate to escape the perfect sensations. Only then did the Alpha seem to think him ready – or maybe he couldn’t take his own teasing anymore. His own frame was drenched in sweat, nostrils flaring as he scented the sex-heavy room, his cock swollen and the front of his trousers damp and dark. Rhys swallowed, impossibly feeling a flare of want as the Alpha shimmed them off in a move that shouldn’t have been nearly as graceful as it was, and revealed a massive Alpha-cock. Rhys barely had time to admire – or panic – because the next moment the Alpha was positioning himself between his legs.

He gave the Omega a disarming grin, the image only added to by the disheveled hair and flushed neck. “You ready?” He asked, barely waiting a breath before answering. “Good, cause I’m going in.”

The first slide had their hips meeting and Rhys gasped, head flinging back as his legs wrapped tightly around the Alpha’s hips, hands fisting the sheets until they ripped free. Above him the Alpha was physically shaking, eyes squeezed shut as he cursed under his breath.

“How the _fuck_ are you so tight?” He asked around a groan, collapsing down to his forearms, forehead resting just over Rhys’.

The Omega moaned, eyes shutting at the feeling, hands falling to grip the Alpha’s muscled forearms. It took a few tries, but Rhys was always quick on the pick up and soon the two’s hips were meeting in perfect tandem, Rhys’ sliding back as the Alpha thrust forward, pulling away when he did the same. Maybe he should stay, Rhys thought in a haze of pleasure, maybe he should stay and be a whore if meant he got this all the time. Got paid to do this. God, could you even imagine what a shared heat would feel like?

But even as he thought it, Rhys knew it was only a fantasy. Tomorrow his whole life began, his future finally started – far the fuck away from the shithole that was Promethea. The mouth against his own became more demanding, as did the strength of the thrusts, and Rhys cried out the best he could around the tongue in his mouth. He blinked hard, staring up at the Alpha to find his glare, lips curled back in a snarl.

“You think about me.” He growled out, the sound making something in Rhys curl up pleasantly, _“only me._ You’re mine,” the Alpha snarled, thrusts so hard that Rhys was nearly rocking into the headboard, “no matter where you go or who you fuck, this is mine. You’ll always remember me, won’t you baby?”

He nodded – whether in apology or agreement he had no idea, arms curling tighter around the broad form, eyes caught once again with the Alpha’s forceful gaze. Rhys whimpered, blinking around fresh tears, the feeling of being tied for the first time painful even amongst all the pleasure – and his eyes finally fluttered shut, overwhelmed by the feel of it being forced passed his tender rim. The actual tie destroyed something in him. It was like something deep inside him, something almost mystical and primal, had broken free. For the first time in his life Rhys felt like he truly understood every part of his body, like he found some secret part inside him that he’d no idea was there before, and he came silently, locking so hard on the knot he felt a burst of pain.

Rhys’ eyes opened and he was instantly taken by the sight of the Alpha completely wild, expression a twist between pleasure and pain, lips pulled in a snarl until they were white, veins pulsing in his neck as he ground against Rhys’ opening, seeking his own completion. He reached up, taken by that strange feeling of completeness, of awoken sexuality paired with an unfettered realization of his own, and cupped the Alpha’s face. He brushed his thumbs over strong cheekbones, down the creases of his mouth, in a tender move that was utterly out of place in the nature of their exchange.

 _Then again,_ Rhys reminded himself as those pretty eyes locked with his own, _I’m not a whore._

“‘feels good.” He whispered, a full body shudder escaping him that had him locking down on the hard cock inside him. “So good.”

The Alpha let out a choked sound, a hand coming up to cup Rhys’ neck, a thumb digging into the smooth space between his jaw and ear, eyes locked with Rhys’ as he rolled his hips one final time and came. The Omega sighed, going boneless against the mattress, hands sliding limply down the Alpha’s form to rest lightly against his wrists. The feeling was – indescribable. He’d always thought that he’d – Rhys didn’t know, feel something, like a hose with how much Alphas' came and the whores joked about it. Instead it was a feeling of warmth that spread from his hips, a peace that made his shoulders slump and his heart calm. Rhys felt like he was floating, like he’d left his body completely.

He opened his eyes, feeling utterly drowsy and content, and gave the Alpha watching him a tired smile. “Hi.”

The Alpha blinked once, hard, before curling his larger frame around Rhys, a hand supporting his neck as he pressed them even closer together. The Omega just went with the move, resting his face in the sticky skin of the man’s nape.

“…too fuckin’ cute.” The Alpha muttered against his forehead.

Rhys considered moving away for a moment, or at least staying awake until they untied, aware that he was very near falling asleep with an unknown Alpha. It was a very real danger, one he’d been advised against his whole life, and even in the safety of this whorehouse - where whore and bouncer alike would kill for him at the barest of words - it was probably a mistake. But he dismissed the idea as soon as it came. The Alpha’s body was so warm above him, his fat knot a welcome heat inside him, and Rhys was so, so tired.

And he had to get up so _early_ tomorrow.

Why the hell did he think that scheduling an early morning transport was the way to go? Come to think of it; “Hey, is the clock alarm on?”

“How the hell should I know?”

“Green–” Rhys managed around a yawn, “– light. Upper left corner.”

“Yeah, it’s there. What, got an early morning ‘appointment,’ kid?” The Alpha asked, voice dripping with distaste. Rhys rolled his eyes, but this time kept his comments to himself. It wasn’t like the Alpha didn’t know where he was.

…and yet, weirdly, Rhys felt like he had to defend himself.

“‘m not a whore.”

“Yeah, well, I paid. You’ve got my knot in your ass. Call it what you want.” The Alpha rolled his hips, causing the knot inside of Rhys to shift. The Omega whined, biting his bottom lip in shock at the sound of it. He’d never, _ever_ made that sound like that before. The Alpha just chuckled. “Christ, why do you have it set for five?”

Rhys groaned at the reminder of his early morning and he coiled tighter into the Alpha’s form, curling his forearms into the space between their chests. “Stupid…indoc meeting.” He explained, voice soft with sleep. He nuzzled further into the Alpha’s neck. His limbs felt like weights and Rhys felt like he couldn’t open his eyes even when the Alpha shifted them, pulling the sheets over their forms. “Gonna be…” another yawn, “so cold.”

Then – nothing.

Just a pleasant fullness and the comfort of sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you like? Indoc is slang for indoctrination, which is a term a lot of places use for the groups of meetings starting employees have to go through. More actual plot will follow; we can only just see the crazy in Jack and Rhys' background was given. Oh, what the hell. This was just sex, who the hell am I kidding.


	2. Promethea, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Most Omegas – even the whores he’d grown up with (especially the whores he’d grown up with) would have been unsettled by it, would probably have the good sense to be scared by it. But when the Alpha stepped into Rhys’ space, a hand reaching out to wipe at the blood on his face in a move that did little more than smear it, the Omega only felt a hot bolt of want.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written fast and un-beated. Still on Promethea. 
> 
> You're guys responses have been fabulous! Thank you so much!

Rhys woke up curled in as a tiny a ball as he can manage. The Alpha was gone, with not even the residual heat from the sheets to remind Rhys of him. The Omega groaned, a hand flying out to silence his alarm before rolling out of the bed and stumbling towards the shower. It was short, made with the sloppy but quick movements of someone who’d budgeted just enough time for one – and then proceeded to blow the remaining twenty minutes of his half hour attempting to tame his hair into something reasonable.

The hickeys on his neck…well, Rhys left them be.

When he finally left the room, bundled rather lightly for the cold of Promethea in only three layers (but he’d be spending almost all of his day inside or in transports), it was to the sounds of whoops and cheers, knowing catcalls and jeers. Rhys ducked his head with a blush, rubbing at the back of his neck with one hand while casually flipping people off with the other. The clients with the whores watched him pass with wide, startled eyes but they knew better than to ask for clarification.

When Rhys finally made it through the main corridor of humiliation, he was picked up without much provocation by Thomas and carried into the back of the house and towards the small, communal kitchen they all shared. “Thomas,” Rhys growled out halfheartedly, “put me down you ass, I’m going to be late.”

“Whose fault is that, brat?” He let out a yip of surprise when a large hand swatted his sore bottom. “Ya can stand to have some breakfast before you go off leavin' us forever.”

Unsurprisingly, Sarah was waiting in the kitchen with (very surprisingly) a full, multi-plate breakfast and Rhys dug in happy. He ignored the loud, throbbing beat of the music that was everywhere in this place, smacking greedy hands away from his toast when one whore or another wandered in to say goodbye and sneak a treat, and tried his damnedest to ignore the surreal realization that this was probably the last meal he was ever going to share with his pseudo-family.

Afterwards – when Rhys really was going to be late – Sarah walked him to the front of the sealed door that kept the devastating winds of Promethea at bay. The whore was rail thin in her old age and the loss of weight had played up a slight unevenness in her breasts, made the wrinkled skin around her neck more pronounced, but her make-up and hair was still done to perfection, her outfit planned to a tee. She’d even worn her good pearls this morning, just for Rhys. The old Omega pulled him into a tight hug, the scent of her cloying perfume invading every inch of Rhys’ senses, fruity and overwhelming and utterly comforting.

“You take care of yourself, hunny,” Sarah said softly, her nails scratching at the soft hairs at his nape, “and never come back here.” She pulled away, scarred hands cupping his cheeks. “This type of place ain’t where you’re meant to be. Not with your brains. Make somethin’ of yourself.”

And then she’d kissed him and Rhys was on his own. He stepped out into the cold air – so cold that for a moment it stole all breath from his lungs and made him cough, even with his face mask and scarf in place – and then he was bounding down the whorehouse steps and towards his future, excitement mirrored in every inch of his step.

Ten hours later and that excitement had dulled a bit. The hours upon hours upon hours of meetings, paperwork, and poorly constructed slideshow presentations had done quite a bit in taking the wind out of his sails. When Rhys finally made his way towards the rail station, his only bag – a small duffle that contained his only extra set of clothing and pajamas – he felt exhausted and irritated. Last Junction, the mid-size mining town that both Rhys and the Atlas Cooperation called home on the icy planet, was positioned mostly underground to try and shelter it from the full force of Promethea’s weather. It worked for the most part, but not even the layers of earth could protect the settlers from the cold or the blistering wind that snuck in from the entryways, and the entire town lived in constant fear of attack by the local animal populations, especially the vicious bus-sized burrowing mole rats that glowed a pretty, peachy color and spat an acid that could dissolve a man alive.

Flights off Promethea had to be timed with breaks in the weather and accordingly the underground train ride that connected Last Junction to one of the only space ports on Promethea was scheduled to run only a handful of times a day and rather intermittently at that. The ride was three hours long and rather dangerous, as even though the tunnels had been lined, the aggressive, territorial mole rats were known to attack the trains. These attacks were always devastating, usually resulting in the death of entire cabs of people, but it was a tossup if that was due to the mole rats or the automatic security turrets that activated to eliminate them.

As it stood, Rhys had managed to book himself a ticket on the three-thirty train and even though it was standing room only the Omega was far too relieved that it wasn’t going to be cancelled to care. Rhys yawned into his parka sleeve, one hand wrapped tightly around a support hook. He tried to ignore the feel of so many bodies pressed against him. He’d scored a space close to the wall, so at least he had one side free, and focused on going over his travel itinerary and new arrival information for Eden-6 instead of the growing feeling of claustrophobia and discomfort.

He was going over his arrival instructions for the fifth time (go to the Atlas check-in at the shuttle port and sign-in – Rhys Summerset, Employee ID 2598445.2 – then take the Atlas bus back to the university with the other new arrivals and report to the Employee Registration building on North Campus) and steadfastly ignored the Alpha behind him that _may_ have been ‘bumping’ into him with each sway of the train a teeny, tiny bit too much – when he spotted him. At first Rhys didn’t believe his own eyes, squinting to try and get a better look – but then he felt his eyes blow wide, mouth dropping open in surprise.

The Alpha from last night was on the train.

Rhys swallowed, feeling a shiver run down his spine at the sight of him. Unlike the rest of the cab, the Alpha sat with some small amount of space to himself. He sat in a way that made the seats on either side of him partially unusable; his legs were spread wide, gloved hands thrown up and clasped behind his head, elbows out. Every now and then someone standing nearby would send him a glare, but the Alpha didn’t even twitch at it.

Because he was too busy staring at Rhys.

He shifted uncomfortably, unsure of how to proceed in this instance. What was he supposed to do? They were supposed to ignore each other, right? What happened in the whorehouse, stayed in the whorehouse. Surely the Alpha wouldn’t want the Omega he’d rented the night before approaching him in public. And yet those mismatched eyes were still locked on him and Rhys fought down a wave of arousal at the reminder that the last time it had been so, the Alpha had been buried knot-deep inside him.

Rhys was jolted from his lusty thoughts by the feel of a hand sliding across his bum and up to his hip, and the Omega’s attention snapped from the Alpha, head sweeping around to glare at the man standing behind him. He was a shy bit shorter than Rhys, a miner if he was forced to guess, with a nasty looking scar that bisected his lips and chin, and skin the color of dark mocha. He would have been attractive if it wasn’t for the leer he wore now, or the bitter touch of his hands, and his Alpha-scent surrounded Rhys like an unwanted cologne.

Rhys reach down, pushing the man’s hands off with a glare. “Back off, man.”

The Alpha’s grin only grew more pronounced. “Oh come on, baby. I could smell how turned on you are. No need to play.”

Rhys almost groaned in disbelief. This pervert thought that he’d gotten turning on by his fleeting grinds and not the reemergence of the Alpha that had taken his virginity so thoroughly the night before. He slapped the seeking hands away again, irritation growing as he turned to place his back against the wall defensively.

“I said, _fuck off.”_ Rhys snarled, free hand tightening into a fist. He’d never had to deal with it first hand, but he’d heard more than enough reports about the dangers of riding the trains alone as an Omega or Beta female, but it’d been so crowded that Rhys had thought it would be safe. But he could see that folly of that assumption now – no one was paying attention to what was happening between him and the Alpha-asshole. They either didn’t notice it or (much more likely) couldn’t to be bothered to care, and Rhys fought a flare of panic as the strange Alpha boxed him in.

He threw a punch but his wrist was caught, then his other as he tried to repeat the strike, and the Alpha was suddenly pressing him against the wall, wrists held in a painfully tight grip between them. The man’s free hand slid up his thigh and Rhys hissed, teeth barred, as it slid up higher. Why the hell was no one coming to help him? Fucking Promethea, it was like they were suddenly invisible – no one even looked their way.

“Don’t look so angry, baby.” He whispered, leaning forward to mouth over a rather large hickey from last night. “I can already see that you like to play it rough.”

“Get the fuck off me,” Rhys shouted, struggling harder as a meaty thigh slid between his legs. “I said stop before I–”

The rest of his threat cut off into a startled squawk as his assailants face was suddenly rushing past his own, slamming into the metal wall with enough force that Rhys heard a sickening, pleasing _crack._ The Alpha from last night stood there, expression murderous, gloved fingers gripping the other man’s dreads in a tight fist.

Rhys’ attacker’s face met the wall several more times in quick succession, close and hard enough that blood sprayed across the Omega’s chin and scarf, and he could hear the man’s voice change from enraged snarls to confused, gurgling gasps. Rhys’ felt frozen in place, entire body quivering as the man’s face met the wall over and over, until his went limp, held up only by the grip on his hair. The Alpha shook his head in disgust, letting the unmoving man fall.

“Prick,” the Alpha muttered, kicking at his legs and side until he’d forced the other Alpha's body to fall down into the grove between where the carriage steps met the door. He ran a bloody hand through his hair, seemingly uncaring that it left a trail of the red through it, before glancing back at Rhys and then to the crowd. “What you looking at?”

The Alpha’s actions had brought the entire cab to a standstill, the crowd’s attention caught by the violence in a way that Rhys’ almost-assault had not managed, but they looked away quick enough at his snarling question. It wasn’t the death that had caught their attention; death happened all the time on Promethea, in every possible way it could. It was the abruptness of it all that was so startling. There had been no warning, no announcement or challenge. The brunet Alpha had just inserted himself in the midst of it and (most likely) killed the other man without him ever even knowing why or where his attacker had come from.

Most Omegas, even the whores he’d grown up with (especially the whores he’d grown up with) would have been unsettled by it, would probably have the good sense to be scared by it. But when the Alpha stepped into Rhys’ space, a hand reaching out to wipe at the blood on his face in a move that did little more than smear it, the Omega only felt a hot bolt of want.

“You hurt, kid?”

Rhys shook his head mutely, even as his stomach shifted unpleasantly at the feel of the tacky blood drying on his cheek and neck. The Alpha huffed, an arm curling around Rhys’ waist to steady him as the train suddenly banked on a curve, the other reaching up for a hand hold. Rhys stiffened at the contact, before letting himself follow the pull of the shifting train and fall forward, head resting against the Alpha’s chest.

“Thanks.”

“Yeah, well.”

If there was more to that statement, the Alpha didn’t care to elaborate. Rhys tentatively reached out, hands resting against sharp hipbones. He turned his face, letting his cheek rest against the Alpha’s collarbone, nose nuzzling lightly against a fluffy scarf.

“My name is Rhys.” He offered after a moment, whisper quiet.

The Alpha went still and Rhys felt his chin shift as he turned to look down at him. The Omega kept his eyes closed, fingers curling tightly into the man’s belt loops, and took a deep, steadying inhale of his familiar scent. Everything had happened so fast that Rhys was still shaking, tiny little shudders that were driven by adrenaline and fear at what could have been.

There was a long silence, then; “...John.”

Later, when the shake to his hands finally disappeared, Rhys took John by the hand and wordlessly lead him through the crowd. The Alpha was confused but followed, and the sight of him behind the slimmer Omega’s form was enough to make the crowd part for Rhys. The train's unisex restroom was cramped, only big enough for three tiny stalls and one sink, and Rhys guided them into the only unoccupied stall. It was the middle one, and the Omega could hear the sound of people pissing on either side, but it’s hard to give that information any care when John was looking at him darkly, mismatched eyes all pupil as Rhys crowded them into the small stall and locked the door.

He barely managed to turn around before the Alpha was on him, his mouth a hungry brand against his lips. Rhys couldn’t help the whine that escaped him, too turned on by everything that’s happened to even care how quiet the stalls around them suddenly got. John’s hands yank at his parka, pulling the fabric up at the same moment he pulled Rhys’ pants down. There was a moment of confusion as they navigate the layers, both pairs of hands moving too fast and out of sync to free Rhys’ lowers, before John batted the Omega’s unhelpful movements away and shoved them forcibly down.

Rhys moaned – loud and dirty – at the feel of three fingers pushing insistently inside his core. John still had his gloves on and the leather feels both queer and amazing. His hands curled tightly around the Alpha’s jacket, hips rocking back to meet each thrust and twist of the probing fingers, mouth open and panting against John’s.

He’s wet. In truth, he’d been wet since the moment John smashed that other Alpha’s face against the train wall. There’s a curse against his lips, John grunting as his fingers glide through the increasing amount of slick. “Shit, you’re ready.” A mouth nipped greedily at his neck as John frantically undid his belt and zipper. “I think you liked that, dirty boy.” Rhys shivered at the words, feeling his slick drip down his thighs and onto the floor as he was suddenly lifted, one leg freed of its layers completely. “You like making Alphas fight over your tight ass?”

Rhys whimpered, hands wrapping tightly against John’s neck as he was suddenly lifted. The whimper turned into a long, drawn out whine as the Alpha’s thick cock was guided into him, the pulsing member twitching and shifting as John sat heavily down on the toilet.

“Ride me, Rhysie.” A tongue curled around his ear lobe, “show me how grateful you are for me saving you.”

Rhys bit his lip but nodded, only slightly intimated by the fact that he’d never done anything like this before. He lifted his hips and sank down, the move amazing despite its awkwardness. He shifted atop John’s lap, thighs tightening against John’s for some sort of support. The next few humps were easier and Rhys gasped, eyes wide at the new experience. It was totally different then what had happened the night before. No less good, just so different.

John tolerated a handful of Rhys’ clumsy moves before letting out a growl, hands wrapping tightly around his waist as he held the Omega steady and began to fuck up into him. Rhys let out a shout at the first thrust, barely managing to mute the rest, and he felt so disgustingly erotic, so dirty and alive, as he braced his forearms on the stall walls for support. There was no mistaking what they were doing – not from the sounds of their heavy breathing, the broken sighs and moans – and it only made Rhys burn hotter to know that only a few sheets of plastic were keeping them from the public eye.

Neither was going to last long, which was probably for the best, but Rhys desperately wanted this to go on forever. All too soon though John’s hips were stuttering against his own, the Alpha’s legs spread so wide they slid under and into the other stalls as he pushed back against the toilet basin, hips snapping up desperately.

“Can’t knot you.” John warned and Rhys let out a sob, scrambling to keep them flush together even as strong hands lifted his hips free of the expanding knot. Suddenly four fingers shoved in alongside John’s cock and Rhys shrieked, orgasm overtaking him as his body was tricked by the fake knot. Underneath him John was cursing, chest heaving as his hips shook, his spend coating Rhys' insides and dripping down his thighs with no knot to contain it.

The Omega felt his eyes roll back at the feeling, going limp save where John’s hands were keeping him up, head hanging back limp between his shoulders as he gasped through his orgasm. Rhys was pulled forward, a demanding mouth pressing against his own as John ground his swollen knot against Rhys’ entrance. Unthinkably Rhys shuddered into another orgasm, coating the front of John’s jacket with even more of his come. The train was poorly heated and so they were both still clad for Promethea weather waist-up, and the sweat that had built up under it made a strange parallel to the chill that was currently teasing along Rhys backside and thighs.

John seemed to have been feeling it as well, because he carefully shifted first Rhys them himself to his feet, holding out a wad of toilet paper. It took a moment for the Omega’s brain to re-engage, but when it did he took to the offered toilet paper and began to try and clean himself up the best he could. There was no mistaking what they’d been doing, if not by the sounds then by the sight and scent of them. That much was clear enough as they stepped out of the bathroom and back into the cab proper, and Rhys instantly shrunk back from the accusing/amused/aroused/angry glares from those closest to the facilities, physically taking a step back at the full force of them.

John’s chest met his back, a hand sliding possessively around his waist and belly as the Alpha stepped closer behind him and glared at the group, lips pulling back ever so slightly in a snarl. John guided them towards the train wall, a jerk of his head causing a Beta to stumble out of the way and freeing up a coveted corner spot. Rhys let out a sigh of relief as he stepped into the small space, John’s body a physical wall that blocked out the eyes of the crowd. A hand rested against his nape, tugging him forward and Rhys went eagerly with the move, wrapping himself around the Alpha’s broad form.

Rhys didn’t remember much after that. He fell asleep not long after they’d hit the halfway mark, only waking when John had shook him and lead him – stumbling and still half-asleep – off the train and into the shuttle port. Rhys came to a pause just inside the main doors, yawning as he rubbed at both eyes with his fingers. When he brought them down, blinking hard to try and get that sleep-heavy feeling from them, it was to find John watching him, expression something muted and complicated.

The Alpha stepped forward, letting Rhys’ bag – when had he even taken that? Had Rhys even noticed it was gone? – slide from his shoulder to rest at their feet. A gloved hand (the same hand that had been inside Rhys, that Rhys could smell his own slick still on) reached out and brushed lightly over cheek. Over where the offending Alpha’s blood still caked his cheek.

“Take care of yourself, princess.”

Rhys turned into the touch, reveling in the way the John’s breath hitched as he caught the Alpha’s thumb with a kitten lick, the leather smooth and warm against his tongue. He nipped it lightly, before stepping away and pulling his pack on. He could still feel those mismatched eyes on him – like a physical weight – as he made his way over to where the rest of the Atlas employees have gathered. Rhys doesn’t let himself look back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys liked! Handsome Jack's actual name is John before he get's famous, which is why he uses it here.


	3. Eden-6, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhys was going to Tantalus.
> 
> Fucking Tantalus. On the short list of places no one wanted to be assigned to it went Promethea, Tantalus, then the infant colony of Pandora.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Un-betaed. Only warning is for a college-aged Rhys doing what college-aged kids do; drink and sleep around a lot. And, well, minor murder. In Rhys' defense, the dude kind of deserves it. The other one...not so much.
> 
> I can't believe another chapter came to me. What can I say? I'm on a role.
> 
> (To write porn.)
> 
> ((Soooo much porn))
> 
> (((I may actually be nervous about my porn)))

The years that Rhys had spent on Eden-6 was perhaps the best of his life. The planet was like a paradise with long, thin islands that held miles upon miles of pink sand and crystal clear, aqua-green waters. He spent as much time as he could stretched out on the beach like a cat, soaking up the sun and developing a rather fetching tan – once the horrid cycle of sun burn, peel, freckle, sun burn, peel, freckle, finally ended.

He was also doing stupidly well in school. He was number two (barely, two and half points from being number one to his never ending frustration) and the competition inspired Rhys to work all that harder, to excel just that much more. He was so good he was probably going to graduate in three years instead of the normal five. He kept in contact with his family in the whorehouse, naturally, but as the years wore on he called them less and less. He figured they probably understood. Cycle of life and all that jazz.

Rhys also became much more… _experienced._ The Alphas of Eden-6 were practically hedonistic, utterly uncaring about social mores and more free with their sexuality in a way that Rhys had never experienced or imagined. It wasn’t that Promethea had been a particularly conservative place, in fact it was just about the opposite. _Anything_ was permissible on Promethea, as long as no one was pointing a gun at you and telling you to cut it the fuck out you were usually pretty good to go. It was the atmosphere, the mood of it, that was so new. Everything was so positive, so carefree and happy. So  _freely given._

Violence was almost nonexistent and Rhys couldn’t name a place that he couldn’t go at any hour of the day or night and not feel totally safe. It had a lot to do with the fact that Eden-6 was a major tourist destination and outside of those who were stationed there for the major companies, the huge majority of the population worked in the tourism sector. Their livelihood depended on Eden-6 having a good, clean reputation and the local authorities were only violent in their enforcement of the peace.

There were schools and business parks for Atlas, Hyperion, Dahl, Maliwan, Jakobs, Torgue, Tediore – all the major players. The groups intermingled freely, fucking and debating in an exchange of ideas that was as stunning as it was stimulating. Rhys had a _very_ good time indeed.

And at the end of his first year, Rhys met the Omega that he would jokingly come to call his heterosexual lifemate; Vaughn Coolie. Vaughn was a freshman at the Hyperion college, a lifelong resident of Eden-6, and quite possibly the most awesome bro that Rhys had ever meet. They bonded instantly – though that could have been because of the way that they met.

It had been at one of the newer, hotter clubs on the college strip, a place lit in nothing but neon and white called _Tropico._ Rhys had gone with the intention of finding a nice, big Alpha with a nice, big knot to fill him up. He’d stepped out to smoke (a passing fad on his part, but they had these awesome cigarettes that blew out colored smoke with each exhale) and found Vaughn desperately trying to get some Atlas knothead, undoubtedly on leave, from trying to mount him.

Rhys’ eyebrows furrowed, cigarette paused halfway to his lips in thought, and for a moment wavered on whether not to intervene or just leave and go get a bouncer, but then Vaughn had caught sight of him and the helpless fear in his clear grey eyes took the decision from him. Rhys flicked the cigarette away, clearing the small space between them with soundless steps, and cleared his throat.

The Alpha spun around in surprise and Rhys used the moment of instability to kick him easily off the raised platform and down the stairs. The stairs were steep, designed obviously by someone who’d never used stairs before, and the Alpha fell straight down. He landed hard, his neck at an unnatural angle, and didn’t get up again. Rhys watched the body for a few more moments to be sure before pulling out another cigarette and lighting it. He blew out a puff of orange smoke and gave the startled Omega his most charming smile.

“Hey. You okay?”

Vaughn mouth moved a few times, no sound coming out before he let out a long, breathy sounding whimper. “You just – you just – fuck, man. I think you killed him.”

Rhys flicked his cigarette, sending a small pile of ash free on the wind. “Well. Yeah. He was going to rape you, bro.”

Just in case, you know, the other Omega had somehow missed that. Vaughn gaped at him for a moment longer before leaning over the balcony, staring at the dead body, and then puked. Rhys blinked before stepping forward and petting the shuddering body’s back comfortingly.

“It’s okay, get it all out. Smells like tequila; gotta be careful with that shit.” Rhys joked, even though he knew his reaction had nothing to do with the alcohol.

“It’s not the tequila!” Vaughn sputtered, eyes wide and pale. “You just _offed_ that guy. Like, I mean, like mafia style.”

Rhys perked up immediately. He loved old movies, but he was in the minority there, and mafia movies were his favorite. Most people couldn’t stand the shitty graphics, but Rhys just found them endearing. “Pretty badass, wasn’t it?"

Vaughn laughed harshly. “Yeah, I guess it was.”

“You don’t have to worry, there’s no cameras out here. Undoubtedly why that shitdweb brought you out here.” Rhys assured with an imperial wave of his hand. Vaughn laughed, shaking his head.

“Well, that’s a relief I guess. I’m Vaughn Coolie, first year Hyperion.”

“Rhys Summerset,” he said with a cheeky grin, offering his hand, “second year Atlas, on the fast track.”

Vaughn laughed, cheeks full and merry, and that as they say, was that. They were inseparable after that. So much so that when Vaughn’s heat hit, it was Rhys he first called. The older Omega had shown up with a thick necked, thick armed - just a really massive, musclely blond Dahl commando and the three of them proceeded to have a _very nice_ heat together. Two months later, Vaughn returned the favor. With the same Dahl blond; a sweet, shy thing by the name of Axton who may or may not have been married.

Vaughn had been slightly distraught when he’d first learned that fact, but Rhys managed to talk him down. Lifelong soldiers like Axton often had complicated marriages that more often than not carried the label of ‘open.’ And Axton really was a sweet guy. A little rough around the edges, but sweet. And if he and Vaughn kept contact after those two shared heats (and if the soldier had somehow shown up for Vaughn’s following heats) and Rhys wasn’t called upon to join as much, he pretended that he didn’t notice.

So yeah, Eden-6 was kind of paradise. Kind of his own slice of heaven and Rhys never wanted to leave. But all good things had to end.

It was actually Vaughn who left first. The accounting track at Hyperion was shorter than his own and the short Omega was quickly assigned to Elpis, the moon that was in orbit around Pandora where Hyperion and Atlas both had pretty strong presences. They were both hoping that when Rhys graduated he’d be assigned there as well, so that they could continue their truly epic friendship. They kept in close contact; messaging and video chatting even though acts like that between different corporations outside of college was pretty frowned upon.

But truly, a friendship like theirs simply could not be denied by any rules man put in place.

Rhys was in the last week of his third and final year when he met John again. He was pretty well on his way to drunk, grinding against a fit Alpha that was so packed with layers of muscles on top of muscles that he could probably snap Rhys in two on a whim, and Rhys was damned and determined to get the hard cock sliding against his ass inside him before the night was over. He’d gotten his reassignment at the end of the short – yet quite pompous and fanfare filled – graduation ceremony.

Rhys was going to Tantalus.

Fucking _Tantalus._ On the short list of places no one wanted to be assigned to it went Promethea, Tantalus, then the infant colony of Pandora. The planet was named after a Greek mythological figure who was damned for all eternity to Tartarus, the Greek equivalent of hell. Tantalus was best known for cannibalism and kin slaying, and had killed his own son by cutting him up and _boiling_ him, and tried to feed it to the unknowing gods. The gods found out (because of course they did, they were gods) and were horrified. They sentenced Tantalus to stand forever in a pool of water, desperate with thirst but every time he tried to duck down to soothe it, the water would recede, and lush fruit hung just out of reach, forever taunting the starving man.

This was the place Rhys had been assigned.

 _Him!_ Who was number one (his formal rival had meet with a very unfortunate lab accident when the machinery he was working on mysteriously caught on fire) in his graduating class! It was infuriating and the Omega couldn’t help but wonder if it had something to do with the fact that he was from Promethea. Maybe they thought that meant he’d stand up to the harsh climate of Tantalus better than most. Unlike Promethea, which existed in a constant state of deep freeze, Tantalus was boiling hot and to attempt to cross it without a bio-suit was certain suicide. The only upside to it was that unlike Promethea, the flora and fauna were virtually nonexistent save for some interesting lichen and slugs, and thus far less likely to try and eat you. The planet was also apparently breathtakingly beautiful, but still.

_Tantalus._

Rhys was pretty salty about it all.

So yeah, his plan for the night was to get drunk beyond belief, find a nice Alpha to fuck his misery out of him, than start packing for his new assignment. On Tantalus. _Christ._ He didn’t notice the Hyperion delegation of senior corporate members when they’d arrived, too busy dancing and trying to coax the Alpha to come home with him, but Rhys had noticed how the Hyperion students seemed to collectively lose their shit all at once. They were gathered together at the bar, speaking frantically and making not very well hidden gestures towards the VIP balcony. After a moment Rhys’ curiosity won out over his need to get laid and he disengaged from the Alpha with a heavy, open mouth kiss and a promise to return. He wandered through the crowd to the bar, ordering himself a drink called a ‘Hey Juice,’ which was nothing more than rum, orange juice, rum, gold liquor, and more rum. He took a sip on the straw, glancing at the overly excited Hyperion students.

“So,” he drawled slowly, gesturing to the group with his drink, “what’s this all about?”

The bartender snorted, shaking his head as he mixed a drink. “Some Hyperion big wigs came in for some drinks.”

“Not just any big wigs,” one of the Hyperion students interjected, aghast. “Those are _the_ Hyperion big wigs. The Head of Programming – like for the entire freakin’ company – is up there, along with like twenty other department heads. The president himself is on Eden-6, too!”

“Is he here as well?” Rhys asked, intrigued, and received a look that made him feel like he had something on his shirt.

“Of course not! Mr. Tassiter would _never_ lower himself by coming to a shithole like this.”

“Hey,” the bartender snapped, annoyed, “you want your drinks? Then shut the fuck up.”

Rhys giggled into his drink, mouth still around the straw so that some of the air swelled down and made the liquor bubble stupidly. “Gotta wonder why he’d say about you guys if he knew you were here, frequenting such a ‘shithole.’ Or his department heads.”

“Shut up, Atlas.” Another student said with a sneer. “You don’t know shit.”

Rhys just rolled his eyes, causally flicking them off before gliding towards the smoking terrace. Or rather, he tried to. In reality the drunken Omega hit a bar stool or three and stumbled – but hey! The drink hadn’t spilled! The fresh air felt stupidly nice on his flushed face. Rhys was wearing his tightest pair of black jeans, so tight that they left very little room for air flow, and both his lower and upper body was covered in a thin layer of sweat. The white v-neck (also one of his tighter ones – Rhys _really_ wanted to get laid tonight) he was wearing had practically gone see through with sweat, and the Omega felt his nipples tighten as the cool night breeze swept off the ocean and over his over-heated body.

He let out a sigh, lighting his cigarette, and tried very hard not to remember he was leaving this beautiful place in less than three days. He leaned against the wooden railing, cocking his hips back to stretch out his back muscles, body trembling slightly at the sweet sensation. There was a low whistle from behind and Rhys jumped with an almost literal _‘eep’_ sound, the drink in his hand tumbling into the sand below. The Omega stared at it for a moment forlornly, before turning to glare at the catcaller.

What was going to undoubtedly be a rather scathing remark died away into nothing at the sight of _John,_ the Alpha who’d bought him on Promethea all those years ago, leaning in the club door way. He looked stupidly attractive, clad in a pair of dark grey trousers and a matching vest, a striped button-up undone to the breast and sleeves rolled up. “Well, well, kitten. Look who grew up.”

“John – how, hey.” Rhys sputtered, suddenly overly aware of his disheveled state, and of the scent of the Alpha he’d been dancing with not a ten minutes ago that was plastered all over him. He ran a hand through his sweat-damp hair, giving the Alpha a genuine smile. “What the hell are the odds? You one of the VIPs making all the Hyperion students cream themselves?”

John laughed, arms uncrossing as he stalked across the terrace, utterly ignoring the small group of Hyperion smokers who were staring at him in open shock and adoration. “Maybe.”

“Ooo,” Rhys awed, leaning back against the railing and letting his arms splay across it, shamelessly stretching out his long body for the best angle, “moving up in the world, John?”

The Alpha’s teeth were very white in the dark, his smirk still sharp enough to cut. “Of course I am. And I guess you’re really not a whore.”

“Nope,” Rhys said around a bark of a laugh, “really not. I just graduated from the Atlas university. I actually just got my marching orders in fact; glorious, sunny Tantalus.”

John gave another whistle, though this time it was a low, almost mocking sound. “That’s a toughie, kiddo. Think you can handle it?”

“Well, I am Promethean so – yup. Walk in the park.”

“Gotta love the blind hope of the young,” John said, clearly amused, but whatever he was going to say next was halted by the stammering _“Uh, hello? Mr. Connell?”_ The Omega that had approached them was pretty, in a slender doe-ish kind of way, with bright red hair and even brighter green eyes, his cheeks flushed with nerves and probably drink, hands interlocked nervously in front of him.

“Oh, I’m so sorry to interrupt, but I have to just say – I’m a _huge_ fan. I’m writing my dissertation on your most recent paper. I was wondering, I mean if you have time, maybe we could talk about it? I mean, only if you have time,” the Omega repeated quickly, seeing the uninterested slant to John (John _Connell,_ Rhys filed away, pleased to finally have a complete name) lips. The red head looked down, smiling demurely at John as he watched him from beneath his lashes, teeth fiddling with his bottom lip. “I – I would just absolutely love to get your input. I could...maybe, buy you a drink?” Rhys tutted, unamused not only that he'd been interrupted but he was now forced to listen to some random Omega flirt (and so poorly!). The red head’s glare immediately snapped to him. “Something wrong, _Atlas?”_

It was always an amusing thing, how everyone here seemed to instinctively know which corporation you belonged to even without any uniforms being on. Most of the time everyone played nice, but the second anything went off kilter suddenly everything was _“you Atlas-pig”_ this or _“you quivering Atlas-quim”_ that. Secretly, Rhys was actually kind of fond of that last one. Quim was such a great word, really underutilized.

“Well,” Rhys drawled around a deep inhale, letting out a cloud of deep purple before finishing, “yeah. I mean, I did just have my conversation hijacked by some Hyperion kissass. Honestly, honey? You’re just making yourself look desperate. So if you’d kindly just –” He made a waving motion with his hand, “– you know, piss off so we could finish, that’d be great.”

“Excuse me?” Oh, Rhys really pissed him off if the red head's voice was going all high pitched and squeaky like that. “Do you have _any idea_ who you’re talking to you? You cocky, little _–_ what the hell could someone like you even –”

“You heard the kid,” John interrupted, mismatched eyes alight with amusement, “fuck off.” The Omega’s mouth opened and closed silently for a few moments too long and the Alpha swung around, gleeful expression morphing into something much less nice in the span of a heartbeat. “Did I stutter? You hard on hearing or something? Leave.”

The Omega shook his head fearfully, beating a hasty repeat as he tripped on his apologies – and then literally tripped, falling into his waiting group of friends. Rhys burst out laughing, turning away from the fussing group and muffling the sound against his hand. His laughter trailed off abruptly when John was suddenly in his space, hands resting heavily on the railing on either side of Rhys. John’s nose scrunched, lips curling in exaggerated distaste. “You smell like shit and bad breeding.”

Rhys rolled his eyes at the dramatics. He didn’t smell that bad, really. “Tantalus, John. In three days. I came here with two intentions; to get drunk off my ass – check, by the way, and to get laid.”

The Alpha’s leer was almost comical. “Allow me to generously volunteer my services, cupcake. I wouldn’t want you to fail at meeting your goals.”

Rhys shook his head, reaching out to stroke his fingers over the stockier man’s vest buttons. He licked his lips, loving how John followed the move unprompted, and leaned in until they were hovering just above the shell of the Alpha’s ear. “You wanna help me reach my full potential? I’ve learned some new tricks, you know. Want me to show you?”

John’s hands curled around his hips, dragging him closer as a nose rooted into the hollow beneath his jaw, inhaling his scent deeply. “Well, that’s an interesting proposition.” The Alpha rumbled, voice low and deep, “but it takes a lot to impress me, sweetheart.”

Rhys had always been bad at turning down challenges, to the point of insanity and even stupidity at times, and that same competitive spirit that had ruled his life reared its ugly head now. He slid his hands slowly around the Alpha’s waist, letting them slip beneath his shirt to stroke at the fine hairs along his lower back. “I can fist myself,” he said quietly, smirking when he felt the Alpha draw tight in interest, felt his cock firm up against his hips, “and suck myself,” his tongue darted out, dragging across John’s neck and tasting the sweat there before swirling down to tease over the bonding gland at his collar bone, “at the same time.”

Rhys let out a squeak when he was suddenly off his feet, thrown unceremoniously over the Alpha’s shoulder. He should have been more alarmed, but being carried by an Alpha - being manhandled, really - had always been on of Rhys favorite things as a kid and as he matured it had developed into something of a kink. And the ease with which John did it now made him squirm in the best type of ways. Rhys gave the stunned looking Hyperion students a cheeky wave, grinning smugly as he was carried off. A secretary – like in honest to god office clothes, down to her modest kitten heels and yellow Hyperion broach – was trailing after them, a worried look on her face.

“Get the car,” John bit out, supporting all of Rhys’ weight on one shoulder and with one hand, fingers digging into the flesh of his thigh to keep him steady. “I want to be at a hotel like yesterday.”

“But sir, the board–” John’s head snapped to the side, and even though Rhys couldn’t actually see the glare it was enough to make the poor Beta shiver and nod rapidly. “I’ll let them know you’ve left early, sir. I’ll – I’ll tell them you weren’t feeling good.”

“Tell them whatever the hell you want, but I don’t want to be interrupted again. Capish?”

“Y-Yes, sir.”

“Jeez, John,” Rhys said with a longing filled sigh, “looks like you have been climbing the corporate ladder pretty hard. Wish I could make people fall over themselves like that.”

There was a pinch to his rear, making the Omega yelp. “You’re still young, sweetcheeks. You’ve got time.”

Rhys rolled his eyes as he was set down in front of a rather impressive looking limo. “Yes, because you’re so old. What are you, like thirty-five?”

John shot him an affronted, almost baffled look. “I’m twenty-seven, jackass.” He shook his head as he shoved the Omega not so carefully into the back seat. _“Thirty-five._ Jesus. Stupid kids.”

“Hey,” Rhys said as he settled into the leather seat, “you’re the one who was all caught up on the age thing. And I’m not a kid; I’m twenty, thanks.”

That comment earned him a flat look, and then John was pulling him across the limo and onto his lap by his shirt front. The Omega went with the move willingly, settling easily into the cradle of John’s hips. Hands slid up his side, tweaking his nipples through the fabric and Rhys arched into the touch, hands tangling in the Alpha’s hair. Another nip, harder this time, and the Omega began to grind down viciously, wanting John to feel as frustrated as he was starting to.

“How far away is your hotel?”

“Screw the hotel,” John snapped, hands laying Rhys flat along the wide seat. For a moment John paused, hovering over him as mismatched eyes swept over his body in a heated stare. “Lookin’ good, Rhysie. All those long hours on the beach have done you good. Bet you have one of those teeny, tiny speedos – bet you like to drive all the Alphas mad.”

Rhys just grinned, reaching up to pull the Alpha down by his vest. “Obviously you haven’t been on Eden-6 long – we insist that our romps on the beach be _nude.”_

John let out a snarl, capturing Rhys’ lips in an abusive kiss, one that left his lips stinging and had him digging nail-deep into his clothed back. He opened easily under the Alpha’s touches, marveling at how they still got him so hot so easily despite how much more experienced he was now and how much more he knew about sex. There was just something about John – from his touch, to his scent, to the sound of his harsh breathing – that made Rhys go absolutely wild. It had to be because he’d been his first - they always say you never forget your first. And _what_ a first. Memories of the night and the afternoon after had been spank bank fodder for Rhys on more than one occasion. The idea that he was about to add a brand new memory – and right before he was to be shipped off to Tantalus too! – was overwhelmingly exciting.

His shirt was suddenly being pulled off, as was his pants, his leather-skinned boots thrown off somewhere into the gaping maw of the darkened limo’s expanse. He gasped as hands ran over his exposed body, squirming against the warm leather as slick began to leak between his cheeks, legs wrapping tightly around John’s waist as the Alpha’s mouth began to echo his touch. Rhys whimpered, hands tangling in John’s shirt as he mouthed aggressively at his nipples, worrying each raw before finally moving on to suck and bite at his neck. Rhys’ hands were frantic, popping buttons from the Alpha’s vest and shirt in his hurry to feel skin against his own. He was still fairly drunk and quite worked up from his hour or so of dancing, and Rhys wanted to come so badly. John pulled away abruptly, eyes dark and lips swollen as he shucked his tops off, a hand tearing his belt free before moving back slightly to shove his pants around his knees. The sight of the thick cock made Rhys surge forward, pushing the Alpha back as his hands framed the member obscenely.

John’s cock had been the one thing that Rhys had thought about the most. Both times they’d fucked he’d barely had a chance to see it and he’d always wondered…Now he drank his fill, taking in the thickness of it, the way it curved slightly to the left with the head an angry maroon that already had a pearl of precum balanced on the tip. Without hesitation the Omega dove him, wrapping his mouth hungrily around the head and sucking.

 _“Shit.”_ John spat out, fingers tangling so tightly in his hair that it made tears prick at his eyes. “Fuck, baby.” The Alpha’s head fell back against the seat, mouth slightly open in a pant, and Rhys felt a swell of pride at the wanton expression. He trailed his tongue over the slit, dipping inside it as much as he could, sipping each splurt of cum as it escaped, before taking the head deeper. He paid special attention to the frenulum, sucking and licking the sensitive skin, careful to skim only very lightly every now and then with his teeth to aid just a tad bit more sensitivity. Rhys reached up, taking John’s swollen and thick balls into his hand, gently rolling and squeezing them before taking a deep breath, rising up on his haunches, and sinking as far down on John’s cock that he could. He couldn’t quite take it all at this angle, but it was enough to make the Alpha jerk and curse and Rhys cautiously pushed his hips back down, careful to keep the move nonthreatening while keeping the Alpha from choking him. His grasp was light, the move more of a…suggestion, then an order. That kind of the thing was always the best when dealing with Alphas.

He began to fuck his throat on John’s cock, pulling back to swirl his tongue around the head before dropping down to take him as deep as he could. John had hunched up to watch, eyes blazing and intense, chest heaving on each pull back and stuttering on each drop back down. Rhys was really starting to get into it, his arousal driven by the sight of John watching him so intently, and he reached down to stroke his dick, moaning around the flesh in his mouth at the feel of it.

Suddenly the hand in his hair was yanking him off. John’s expression slightly wild and Rhys barely had time to gasp before he was being shoved onto the carpeted floor back first, catching himself painfully with his hands and elbows while his ass remained awkwardly up on the seat. He wasn't uncomfortable for long though, because within moments he was being filled with that thick cock. Rhys' head slammed back against the limo floor, mouth open and eyes glazed at the sensation of John’s cock sliding in and in and _in._

If felt like forever before his dick was fully seated, his hips flush against Rhys' own, and when it had John joined him on the floor, knees spread wide on either side of Rhys’ body. The Omega groaned, cock dribbling weakly as his body was neatly folded, knees coming to rest up by his shoulders, muscles stretching in a manner that made Rhys very, very grateful that he remained faithful to his morning yoga routine. The angle made John’s dick slide even deeper inside him and Rhys' hands flew out to grip at the Alpha’s thighs at the sensation. There was a warm drip against his lips and Rhys opened his eyes to find it was his own precum, his cockhead inches from his face.

He glanced up at John, wetting his lips when he found the Alpha watching him, expression challenging. What? Did John think he wouldn’t do it? Sucking himself was practically Rhys’ favorite pastime. He could only just reach the head if he strained his neck, and Rhys set about bathing it frantically, eyes fluttering shut as his tongue darted out to lick at his glans, the feeling of _wethotwarmth_ so strange when it came from himself.

“Yeah, that’s right baby. Suck yourself with that pretty mouth. I want to watch you swallow every drop I force out of you. You gonna do that for me, sweetheart? Gonna be a good boy for me?” The Alpha asked, voice breathless and strained as he began to thrust, thighs muscles flexing impressively as he crouched over Rhys and fucked down.

Each thrust drove the Omega’s cock deeper into his mouth – deeper than anything that Rhys had ever managed on his own, and he nodded frantically as he slurped and sucked his own cock. This angle so perfect; the Alpha's thrust hit his sweet spot dead on, and the feel of his own mouth around his cock was a heady combination. John was fucking him like a man possessed, his bangs falling free and across his brow, his nails digging into Rhys’ hips as he drilled into him with the single mindedness of an animal. It made the Omega feel like he could forgot everything; the limo, the fact that he was being cast out to Tantalus, that he was probably never going to see Vaughn again.

All those worries paled under the feeling of this Alpha inside him once and Rhys shuddered into orgasm, crying out around his mouthful as John forced his knot past the hard clench of his muscles and inside him, the feel of it stretching his walls causing his orgasm to continue that much harder. His eyes watered as his cock spurted in his mouth, throat working rapidly to swallow his own load, and above him the Alpha watched, mesmerized.

“Oh you filthy, gorgeous thing.” John snarled, hips stilling as he came, grinding his balls against Rhys’ ass cheeks, coming hard enough that the Omega could feel the aftershocks shoot through his frame. Rhys pulled off his cock, licking his lips as he swallowed the remains of his orgasm, and whimpered as John eased the strain on his frame. He maneuvering his limp and plaint body until Rhys was in his lap, the Alpha’s body bent awkwardly to fit the small space between the seats. Rhys just went with the movement, too dazed by a really _fucking amazing_ come to really notice what was happening around him. A hand squeezed firmly at the base of his neck, the grip just strong enough to force his hazy thoughts back into some semblance of order. Rhys blinked sluggishly, bringing clumsy arms up to wrap around John’s sweat slicked waist.

“Fuck. That was _awesome.”_ He breathed out, still slightly stunned by it all. There was a chuckle near his ear and Rhys moved into it, nuzzling John’s cheek before dropping a series of fleeting kiss to Alpha’s chin. Submissive displays weren’t normally Rhys things, but he was so happy – so well fucked – that he didn’t really give too much of a shit that he was doing it. John just turned into the move, letting his lips rest against Rhys' forehead.

“Are you sure that you’re not a whore – _ouch!_ Don’t bite! Bad,” a hand slapped his bottom, hard enough to make the sound echo in the small space, “bad, Rhysie. We don’t bite nice Alphas who just gave you a fantastic orgasm.”

Rhys huffed into the warm skin, but couldn’t hide his grin. “Are we at the hotel yet?”

There was another laugh. “Sweetheart, we’ve been at the hotel for a while.”

“What?” Rhys squeaked, suddenly much more awake. “Oh – do we – do we need to move or something? Will you get in trouble?”

Eden-6 was absolutely authoritarian when it came to parking rules and regulations. You could get a ticket just for sitting in your car in a parking space for too long. God help you if you were actually _idling_ while in the car. But John just sniggered. “Trust me, kitten. No one’s going to give me a ticket.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...this may be the most dirty chapter I've ever written. I'm actually kind of blushing over here. Jeez, I hope everything goes over okay. I just picked a last name for most of the characters. I chose Connell for Jack because it means something like 'strong wolf.' I kind of thought it would be fun to see Rhys get jealous/put off/save Jack (not that he needed it) in a nice, catty fashion considering last chapter I had Alpha Jack sweeping in and doing it with another Alpha.
> 
> Youth has made Rhys sassy and self-assured, but don't worry. The fun of the Borderland universe will help beat some of that out of him.
> 
> I seriously want to take a moment to thank readers who came over to read this story who are followers of my other stories and my not be a part of the fandom. I'm so freaking honored that you've done that. RL is total shit right now, so writing is really the only super rewarding thing I've got at the moment and with my Roux-verse fighting me so much, I'm glad to see that you guys can enjoy my other stories that I'm not experiencing a horrible writers block on.
> 
> Seriously, love.


	4. Eden-6, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You could stay.”
> 
> It took him far too long to realize that he was staring with his mouth open and the younger brunet shut it quickly. The sock dropped forgotten from his hand. “What?”
> 
> “You heard me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Un-beated.
> 
> Warning for an encounter in here in which John is - oh, you know - kind of forceful with Rhys. Everything is consensual. And as always, pay attention to the tags as they're added. And of Jack being a dick, because...well, he kind of is.

Tantalus was pretty much what Rhys had been expecting. The planet was stupidly beautiful, providing breath-taking and frankly stunning vistas from the Atlas headquarters. It wasn’t as much of a revelation as it had been when he’d first arrived on Eden-6, but the eye candy was still intense. Coming from Promethea Rhys had grown up with the stone walls of Last Junction as the scenery for everyday life, and even outside on Promethea proper the storms and wind made it hard to ever really see anything. Unlike Eden-6 which was a tropical paradise, Tantalus’ beauty was more exotic, like a fantasy sci-fi painting come to life.

The sky was a vibrant purple and the rain was a pale lavender when it fell (which was almost never). The plant life was mainly lichen, mold, and some weird sludge, slime like plants, and they all seemed to follow a uniformed coloring theme of reds, oranges, and yellows that stood out harshly against the grey baked land. Still the planet was strangely captivating, the true depth of the colors hard to imagine without seeing them. The Atlas building rose out of the barren landscape like a giant megalith of old; built from a specialized type of black stone that would stand up against the harsh, acidic rain, and with the majority of its sides and roof covered in solar panels (a single day on Tantalus was a whopping 368.4 days). Between the black of the stone and the glistening windows and solar panels, the entire building was a study in contrasting colors.

The corporate culture on Tantalus was…unique. It was far more cutthroat than Eden-6, but Eden-6 had been a training school so Rhys figured this was probably just the MO for Atlas offices. In all honestly, Rhys was doing very well for himself. He thrived in the competitive, almost clinical environment. Excuses were not tolerated, nor where mistakes, and the all-mighty deadline ruled over all. Rhys was careful to always meet his – to go above and beyond, honestly – and it won him the respect and jealous hatred of his peers and superiors alike. The two years that he’d spent on the planet had seen the Omega shoot through the ranks, moving up first to assistant director, to director, than to department head (one of the youngest in the whole company) of the Coding and Programming department. The CP was a center point for all Atlas developments on Tantalus, with all projects needing their input at some point or another, and Rhys enjoyed a certain amount of sway and control. Often times it was his word alone that meant a project could continue or it was denied.

The entire thing was incredibly heady and probably rather unfortunate for his rapidly growing ego.

Now though, now Rhys was enjoying his first official vacation. He’d been department head for little over a month and the vacation was both an acknowledgement of his almost meteoric rise and a reward for finishing a new, major security platform three months early. Now the Omega was enjoying the warmth of Eden-6, happy to be back on the beautiful world. The only caveat to his vacation was that he was expected to make an appearance at a party being held tonight by Adelia Forn, a mulit-Quintillionaire who was a major investor in several different (and competing) defense manufactures. Rhys had spent the better part of the day receiving every spa treatment the hotel had and his skin felt butter smooth, his hair already quaffed to perfection, and had given his self-confidence just the right sort of boost. He perched on the edge of the bed, carefully rolling up his knee-socks one handed as he held a glass of wine in the other. This was the last major hurtle he had to do before he could just relax. Well, as much of relaxation as he could manage.

Rhys had been told – in no uncertain terms – that he needed to allow his body an actual heat before he’d be given another birth control implant. Rhys wasn’t concerned though, he had contacted an agency on Eden-6 that specialized in providing Alphas for heats and Omegas for ruts. He was cutting it kind of close with his heat starting tomorrow, but his cycle had always run like clockwork so Rhys wasn’t overly concerned. The black tux looked amazing on him, the tailored thing fitting like a glove and the silk lining of the pants felt wonderful against his smooth legs. Being clothed in so many layers so close to his heat was annoying, but at least he'd be doing it in style.

Rhys hummed to himself as he straightened his bowtie, tucked in his shirt, and gave his reflection a rather pleased smile. He brought his fingers up to gently poke at the sensitive area around his eye, testing the response. The EchoEye had been a gift to himself to celebrate his promotion and while the socket had healed, the entire eye was still quite tender. With one last look at himself, posing in such a way that he could check out how the cut rested across his ass, the Omega gave himself a thumbs up and bounced outside.

It was a short ride to the party, and Rhys spent it in the back of his private car (something he was still getting used to but quite delighted in) studying Adelia’s background. It never hurt to be prepared, after all. The Omega grin, the angle devious and excited, when he was waved in through the VIP line and up above the nosy club, to where an entire floor had been rented out. The moment he stepped through the doors, the mood changed from clubby to classy, with a string quartet playing in the background and penguin clad waiters shifting about the crowd. Rhys plucked a drink from the nearest one, sipping the champagne as he scanned the crowd.

As was expected, there were several representatives from all the major corporations. Atlas and Hyperion had the largest amount by far, and Rhys felt his heart skip a beat when he registered a familiar, tall form amongst them. John was standing with his back to him, talking about something animatedly that made his group watch him with looks of poorly veiled admiration and fear. His EchoEye gave him a readout, but Rhys only briefly skimmed over. It would be an ungracious lie if he tried to pretend he hadn’t been keeping tabs on the Alpha and he was more than aware of John’s recent promotion to VP of all of Hyperion.

It made him happy, happy for someone else, which put John on a rather short list of people Rhys cared about outside of himself. He debated for a moment about going over, before deciding that made him seem too desperate and choosing instead to head over to where several a mixed group of Atlas, Hyperion, and Torque folks had gathered, and introduced himself with his best smile. A half hour later and Rhys had every Alpha and Beta in the group eating out of the palm of his hand. One of them, a swarmy Alpha by the name of Vasquez, was particularly caddish in his appreciation of Rhys, going so far as to rest his palm against the small of his back. A lot of it was natural skill; Rhys had always done well with manipulating the opposite sexes, but – in all fairness – a large part of it had to do with the heat scent that was curled like old perfume around his body. The Omega doubted that it was strong enough for any of them to pick up on it for what it was and he was more than willing to use it for his own advantage.

They were in the midst of a rather boring conversation about the fluxing of recent stock prices when Adelia finally made her entrance. The female Alpha was remarkable and well-respected as she’d built her fortune form nothing. She was perhaps two decades older than Rhys’ twenty-two, with more grey than blonde in her carefully done updo, and dressed in an almost militaristic pant suit that oddly worked on her. When she finally made her way over towards Rhys’ group, the Omega was careful to have freed himself from Vasquez’s wandering hands and standing alone, slightly separated from the group. He slid up next to her as she stood before a nervous looking bar tender, a manicured finger pressed against her bottom lip in thought.

“Try the chardonnay,” Rhys offered softly, already on his second glass himself, “it’s quite good.”

Adelia’s attention snapped to him, brown eyes sweeping over him in blatant assessment. After a moment she smiled, and the expression oddly made Rhys shiver, his instincts prickly under his skin so close to a heat and in the proximity of such a powerful Alpha. “I should hope so, darling. I own the winery.”

“Well, then,” Rhys sipped the last remnants of his drink before signaling for another, “my complements then, Ms. Forn.”

“Please, call me Delia.”

“Delia, then.”

The Alpha watched him for a moment, that sharp smile in place. “You’re a plucky one, aren’t you? Coming here smelling like that.”

Rhys blanched for a moment, covering his surprise behind a deep drink of wine. “Oh?”

“Yes,” Adelia said, seemingly utterly amused, _“oh._ Don’t worry, darling. I won’t spoil your fun. I, of all people, aren’t going to condemn you for using your god given talents appropriately. Lord knows I’ve used that fact that I’ve got a glorious pair of tits and a prick to ease my way more than once.” Rhys laughed, the sound much truer than it had been all night, and was rewarded with a much kinder smile from Adelia. “I’m afraid you’ve caught me at a disadvantage, my dear. I simply don’t recall your name.”

“You’re forgiven, but only because we’ve never met before.” Rhys said cheekily, curling his hand around the offered arm. The female Alpha lead him further into the party and Rhys tried very hard not to let how giddy he was at the jealous looks and constant attention the act brought show on his face. “My name is Rhys Summerset, Atlas-Tantalus Division, Coding and Programing, Department Head.”

“You sound very pleased with yourself when you say that,” Adelia noted, amused, “I suppose it’s a rather new title?”

“Very new,” Rhys agreed, leaning into her strong frame, “and very well deserved.”

“I’m sure it is.” A hand patted his own. “Good for you, dear.”

Adelia was charming, charismatic in a way that few people the Omega had ever met was. She was witty and fiercely clever, fearless and confident in the way that only the very rich could ever be, and Rhys felt both enamored and covetous about the way she commanded the space simply by being there. What Rhys would give for that type of presence… He spent the next hour or so playing arm candy for Adelia, something which Rhys was more than willing to do especially as it got him into a privately reserved booth that was otherwise off limits to all save for other power investors like Adelia. At the moment he was tucked into her side, laughing at something Agostino Piovene ( _thee_ Agostino Piovene. The man who owned twelve moons and eight planets) said, the female Alpha’s finger nails scratching at the short hairs on his nape.

“Auggie, you are just too much.” Adelia said, and Rhys could practically here the eye roll in her voice. “And here I thought I was the insatiable one at the table.”

“Come now,” Agostino said with a click of his tongue, “what is a life full of money if I don’t spend it? Rhys, surely you agree?”

“You mean if I was stupidly, totally, unbelievably rich?”

“Yes, yes, all that.”

“Then of course.”

“See, D? Even the pretty Omega agrees.” Agostino said, than sighed. “But be warned, sweet Rhys, being so rich can become rather boring if you’re not careful.”

“Somehow I find I’m willing to take that risk.” Rhys said flatly, a bright and cheerful smile blossoming across his face at the laughter it brought out in their small crowd. Adelia’s fingers curled into more of a grip, tugging him backwards, and Rhys went with the move obediently, letting his head fall back on her shoulder. The Alpha’s head turned, her lips brushing across ear as she spoke and Rhys tried not to shiver at the feel of it, or at the spike of interest he felt.

“I believe that you’ve become a hit here, darling.”

“Mm,” Rhys agreed, turning towards her so that their noses were a scant few inches apart. “I’m going to have to thank you for allowing me to join you, you’ve made my night much more pleasurable.”

“Is that an insinuation that my parties are dull?”

“I’m not quite sure – this is my first one I’ve been too –”

“Something which I intend to amend.”

“ – but I was trying to complement you, Delia.” The hand around his nape spread out into a grip, squeezing not to gently there, and Rhys felt his mind grow ever so fuzzy at it. If it had been any Alpha other than Adelia Forn attempting to pull such a trick and Rhys wouldn’t have been nearly so compliant, but as it is he just leaned heavily into the hold.

“Complements are always welcome, dear heart.” Adelia’s free hand stroked his jaw. “You never did tell me how you knew John Connell.”

“Did I say I knew him?’ Rhys asked, wetting his lips and catching the edge of the Alpha’s finger pad as he did so, and he thrilled at the way it made Adelia’s expression go dark and slightly feral.

“Words are not always needed.” The Alpha pulled Rhys in firmer against her side, voice dropping to a lower. “He hasn’t taken his eyes off you the entire night.”

Rhys jolted in surprise and he turned to search out John. He found the tall Alpha leaning against one of the bars, an untouched glass of liquor in one hand, eyes locked on the raised booth and Rhys. Even from the distance, the Omega could tell that he wasn’t pleased. It was in the stiff way he stood, the almost sour expression on his face. _Jealousy,_ Rhys’ mind all but cooed, and he couldn’t deny the shot of want – or the wetness that surged between his legs – at the very thought of John Connell being jealous over him.

Adelia laughed against his ear. “You see, there is nothing I love more than life than taking things that aren’t mine.”

Rhys flushed, squirming uncomfortably. “John and I – I’m not his. I’m not anyone’s but my own.”

The Alpha made a dismissive noise. “Do you wish it so? Because,” the hand dropped to his waist, wrapping tightly around Rhys’ hips, “there is nothing that motivates like a threat, darling.” The Omega shivered as a tongue darted out across his ear, then shivered again at the way that John stood taller, his expression growing even angrier as Adelia leaned down to nip at his throat. “I’m afraid I decided that I was going to have you from the moment we met, but that it would irritate that man only makes it that much sweeter.”

“I won’t give you my heat,” Rhys breathed, hands curling into the Alpha’s jacket, “that’s not on the table.”

There was a rough _tsk_ sound, “of course not. What type of degenerate do you think I am? No, my dear. I’m only asking for tonight,” Adelia stood abruptly, a hand held out at Rhys’ eye level, “for _right now.”_

Rhys eyed it, then the amused grins of the others at the table, and nodded. The Alpha lead him from the booth and through the crowd, into a long hallway and through a narrow door that lead to an even narrower supply room. Rhys stepped in, heart beating ferociously in chest, and the sped of it only increased when he turned out at the sound of the door locking and when found Adelia staring at him hungrily.

“On your knees, darling.” Adelia ordered, undoing her belt, “I’ve wanted that mouth for ages and I am not one acclimated to waiting.”

Rhys obeyed immediately, dropping to his knees and watching eagerly as smooth skin and blonde curls were revealed. He could hardly believe that this was happening. He was about to blow _Adelia Forn,_ in a supply closet at one of her famed parties – parties which Rhys apparently now had an open invitation too. The opportunities – the advantages! The fact that it meant he was going to see his first Alpha-female cock was just a boon at this point.

It was a far bit shorter than their male counterparts dicks, but it made up for that in its thickness...and the size of her knot. Already it was starting to grow at the base, larger in its half-formed size than most male Alpha’s fully bloomed ones, and Rhys whimpered at the thought of the large thing inside of him. He bit his lip, bringing his hands up to cup the monstrous width. He stroked her a few times, watching in fascination as precum dribbled from the tip before shamelessly lunging forward to catch it before it fell. He bathed the tip, tongue dancing over the glans again and again, trying to get everything as wet as he could.

Adelia groaned, a hand flying out to a wall for support. “Oh, darling. I knew that mouth was meant for cocksucking the moment I saw it.” Her hand tangled in his hair, urging him to go deeper and Rhys obeyed, taking it as far as he could. He paused when his lips met the swell of her knot, sucking harshly as he moaned and ground his hard cock and wet core against his ridiculously expensive shoes. “That’s it,” Adelia said, voice rough, “taste it. Let it fill you. You like that, don’t you? I bet you’ve never had one this thick before?”

Rhys fought off the urge to roll his eyes as such typical Alpha-ish talk, looking up at the Alpha from beneath his eyelashes before he set his attentions totally on taking her apart. If he was going to suck off Adelia Forn, he was going to do it _right._ Rhys wasn’t much of a braggart, but he knew that his dick sucking his skills were rather impressive, honed to perfection during his college days. He alternated between sucking and licking the tip and fucking his throat raw on her girth, hands flexing and fluttering around her knot – which had grown exceptionally. Rhys had never even imagined a knot could grow so large, it was easily the size of a closed fist of a grown man. He did take pride in the way that Adelia’s chest was heaving, the way she was clutching at some shelving for support, her eyes dark and pleased. Each curse that fell from her sculptured lips made his ego flare that much brighter, made him that much more determined to blow her mind. Pun most definitely intended.

The hand in his hair tightened and Rhys let out a sound of surprise as he was forced to take her entire length, lips strained obscenely around the base of her knot, and the Alpha let out a beleaguered sounding moan, hips kicking forward as she came. Rhys didn’t even have to fight to swallow it all – she was so far down his throat that he barely had to do any work at all. He increased the pressure around her knot, holding it tightly until her prick stopped twitching in his throat. He was slightly surprised that she came so quickly, but quite flattered by it, even if he would have liked a chance to play with her pussy. It probably wouldn't have happened even if it had been longer as Adelia hadn't brought her pants down enough to expose it. Rhys pulled off with an audible _pop,_ panting and throat sore as he grinned up at her.

“Oh, darling.” She said with a sigh, “if only I had met you sooner. Perhaps then I could have asked for your heat.”

“Maybe next time.” Rhys offered with a wink, voice scratchy. Adelia laughed, her hands running through his hair in a gentle pet as her booted foot nudged at his sizable erection.

“I’ll leave you to handle that,” Adelia said, zipping her pants back up and straightening herself, “it’s best if we enter separately anyway. Feel free to rejoin us at the table,” she said as she pulled the door open, before pausing and sending Rhys a highly amused smile, “or perhaps not. I won’t take offense.”

Rhys looked at her confusion, before freezing mid-motion at the sight of John leaning against the opposite wall, mismatched eyes _furious._ The Omega swallowed as he finished standing, feeling a flash of fear before pushing it away. He had nothing to be ashamed about or afraid of. He and John weren’t together, much less exclusive, and outside of those few pleasurable days spent on Eden-6 neither had made any attempt to keep in touch. He straightened his jacket and tie, yanking his pants back into something more proper.

“John,” he greeted, licking his lips and then flushing at the taste of Adelia still on them, “you look nice.” He finished lamely, fighting off a wince at his own stupid greeting. He shifted awkwardly. “Well, good seeing you. I’m just going to – to go.”

He made to move past the Alpha with the intention of finding a bathroom to make himself more presentable, but a hand grabbed his arm roughly, stilling his flight. He yelped as he was pushed forcibly back into the small space, the door slamming loudly behind John as he followed, and any courage that Rhys had gathered disappeared without a trace.

“You fucking whore.” John seethed.

Rhys shuddered, but refused to show his fear. He forced himself to stand straighter – to remove anything that might be seen as deference from his stance – and jutted his jaw out. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” The Alpha snarled. “Looks like you can take the boy out of the whorehouse, but you can’t take the whore out of the boy.”

“Just what the hell is your problem?” Rhys snapped back, “and frankly, John? I don’t see how any of this is your business.” He moved to push past the Alpha, angry and annoyed, but once again John caught him. This time it was to pull him into a bruising kiss and Rhys hands flew about comically, startled, before flying forward to grip at John and trying to push the man away.

“Jo-mm-hn,” he pushed harder, fighting against the iron-like hold against his arms, “l-let, mph!”

John’s grip was unforgiving though, his tongue angry and insistent as it licked into his mouth, and the Omega felt fear and lust curdle hotly in his belly. He bit down on the invading tongue roughly, a hand coming up to smack John hard when he was released seconds later. For a moment the two just stared at each other, Rhys watching as the blood pooled on John’s bottom lip, John watching him watch, expression wild. A single trail of blood slid down the crease of his lip, down his chin, and just as suddenly as it came the stillness between them vanished.

Rhys cried out when he was slammed against a wall, hard enough that the rack of cleaning supplies next to him shook with it, and John’s mouth surged against his own once more. The taste of his blood filled Rhys’ mouth with iron, thoroughly erasing Adelia’s taste. Even Rhys was shocked when he moaned and relaxed into it, hands fisting tightly in the back of John’s tux jacket. This was crazy even for Rhys, and the Omega chose to blame the alcohol and his approaching heat for how plaint he went in John’s hold, how he whimpered and whined against his demanding mouth.

Hands slid up the back of his thighs and Rhys gasped, clinging tightly to John’s shoulders when the Alpha lifted him abruptly. Lips mouthed unforgivingly against his neck, biting hard and Rhys arched into the touch, hips bucking hard against John’s. The Alpha ground back, his erection hard against Rhys’ own, and when John pulled off neck Rhys honestly didn’t know if the blood on his lips were from his cut tongue or Rhys' stinging neck. His pants were yanked down, so rough that Rhys heard something rip, and he barely held back the undignified sound that wanted to escape at the feel of John’s naked cockhead resting against his hole. He bit his lip, hole clenching and releasing, squirming in John’s hold and gasping as each twitch slid him against the hard prick. He felt himself flush at the feel of his slick sliding down his cheeks, mind buzzing with the knowledge that it had to be wetting John’s dick as well.

“Look how bad you want it,” John breathed, mismatched eyes narrowed, “tell me how bad you want it. Tell me how bad you want my cock, you whore.”

Rhys’ lips drew back in a snarl, even as his body undermined him by trying to grind down against John’s cock. “I’m not a whore. And I’m not definitely not _yours.”_

John snarled, hips slamming up and Rhys howled at the harsh penetration, hands scrambling against John’s back. His head shot back, hitting the wall hard enough that he saw stars, gasping as the Alpha began a grueling pace. John felt so good inside him, so thick and long as he parted him. Being fucking by John always felt so _good._

“The fuck you aren’t mine,” John taunted, his laughter harsh and breathless. “Look at you, look at how easy you open up for me.” His hands slid down, fingers digging into Rhys’ ass cheeks. “This has been mine ever since I first popped your cherry. It’s always going to be mine.”

“John –”

_“Fucking say it!”_

“I’m yours!” Rhys sobbed, eyes rolling back into his head when the Alpha shot forward, biting roughly into the tender skin at the base of his neck. It was on the wrong side to be a bonding bite, the bonding gland safe and still virginal, but it was enough to push him into an orgasm. John cursed, large body curling tightly around Rhys’ as he thrust knot-deep and followed.

“What the _fuck,_ John?" The Omega breathed out, voice muffled from where his face was hidden in the curve of his neck.

There was a laugh against his ear. “Yeah, may have gotten a bit carried away there. Delia and I have – ah – a complicated relationship. Sorry, cupcake.”

Rhys pulled away just enough to glare up at him. “You’re carrying me.”

“Where?”

“Anywhere. I don’t think my legs work.”

“I could just leave you here to think on what you’ve done.”

“Think on what I’ve –” Rhys cut himself off with a snort, shaking his head. He tightened his legs around the older man’s waist, nuzzling further into his neck. “Do I need to remind you that you just jumped me in a damn supply closet without so much of a ‘Hey, Rhys. How you doing? Congrats on the promotion.' You get to carry me.”

“You got a promotion?”

Rhys huffed. “You don’t have to act so surprised.”

“Aw, did I hurt little Rhysie’s feelings?”

“Shut _up_ , John.” A heartbeat of silence. “And my neck hurts, you stupid vampire.”

* * *

Rhys woke up with a soreness around his neck that was strangely pleasant. He stretched out, legs and toes pulled tight against the silken sheets. Even with how much money Rhys had spent on his hotel room, John’s penthouse suite was much nicer. The ceiling was painted in what the Omega was fairly sure was real gold, ornate carvings littered about it, and fresh roses were everywhere, scenting the air. There was a groan next to him and a warm body pressed tighter against his own, a hand curling tightly around his waist.

“Go back to sleep.” John’s voice was charming all deep and sleep heavy and Rhys sighed, relaxing into the hold. He turned into John, running his fingers lightly over the stubble on his chin.

“I’d love to, but I’ve got to go.” A bright blue eye opened to watch him blearily. “My heat starts today,” he explained as he pressed a kiss against the lax lips, “its best I clear out of here while I still can.” He pulled back, brushing John’s bangs away from his eyes. “It’s been fun, Johnny. Thanks for a good time.”

He turned, sliding his legs out and wincing at the pull of muscles. They’d fucked once more when they’d gotten back to the hotel and he wasn't quite as...limber...as he used to be. While Rhys was never one to really say no to a good lay, it was bad business to sleep with coworkers. Especially when you were trying to ride up to the top; you never knew who would try to off you when you were vulnerable. And since the small town that surrounded Tantalus HQ had been built solely for the workers, that policy left him with very few options. So he was sore.

But in such a wonderful way.

“It probably won’t start until closer to evening,” Rhys said as he slid his briefs up, “but the Alpha I contracted will be showing up around two so we can go over things.”

“Three Alphas in less than twenty-four hours.” John mused as he sat up against the headboard, reaching over to the side table to fish out a cigarette. Rhys sent him a glare.

“Don’t say it,” he warned. “Besides, me and Delia – that was more business than anything else. And you…” Rhys’ words trailed off at the sight of John stretching, eyes following the strong lines of his shoulders down to his pecs, then down the thick line of hair that lead to his half-hard cock.

John smirk was as self-indulgent as it was lewd. “See something you like, kitten?”

“I’m sure it’s just the heat.” Rhys snapped back, huffing. “Where the hell is my shirt? Or my pants? How did – why can’t I find anything?”

“Rhys.”

“Seriously, did you hide them?”

“Rhys.”

“Here’s a sock – _why is it wet?_ We weren’t that drunk, I don’t –”

_“Rhys.”_

The Omega froze at the sharp bark, than swallowed hard at the sight of John watching him intently, expression unreadable. But there was an air of…of something, not quite vulnerability, certainly not nervousness, but something.

“You could stay.”

It took him far too long to realize that he was staring with his mouth open and the younger brunet shut it quickly. The sock dropped forgotten from his hand. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“You…” Rhys paused, disbelieving if he’d heard correctly. “You want to…to share a heat? With me?”

Sharing a heat was a deeply personal thing and not something done without great foresight or trust in a partner. Rented Alphas from the agency Rhys had gone to were different; they’d gone through training from a young age to control their base urges, to be ‘gentled,’ and as a rule everyone came with a certification that they had completed such programs. Heat was when an Omega at their weakest, at their most vulnerable, driven nearly to madness by the insatiable urge to breed. They needed to be plied into drinking water, into eating, bathing, even into using the restroom. Nothing could stop that biological drive, and an Omega’s body prepared for a heat in such a way that the only function needed was to urinate, but it wasn’t unheard of for someone to wet the bed. Especially if they were attempting a heat alone.

What John was asking, what he wanted, was a level of trust that an Alpha and Omega who occasionally fucked shouldn’t have. So why was Rhys considering it? He licked his lips, mind overtaken with the idea of John guiding him through his heat, of John’s big cock and big knot fucking him through the worst of it, and Rhys’ mouth was dry at the very idea.

“I’ve never shared a heat before.” He revealed, voice quiet and soft with uncertainly. John slid off the bed, crossing the space between them in a handful of paces. His body heat made Rhys’ skin prickle and it was all he could do not to lean into the wide hand that cupped his jaw and cheek.

“All the more reason you should stay.” John’s face was so…so _intense,_ mismatched eyes boring into Rhys’ own. The hand on his face curled, the grip slightly more forceful. “Don't you remember? All your firsts belong to me.”

That wasn’t true, not even remotely, but the possessive statement made Rhys shudder and he gave into the impulse, leaning into John as he brought his hands up to wander over the Alpha’s tight chest. “You’d have to take care of me.”

“I would.”

“I mean it,” the Omega said sharply, eyes snapping up from where they were admiring his pecs to his eyes, “you’d have to look after my every need. I’ll be…I’ll be totally helpless. I need to know that you’ll look after me – that you’ll protect me. I have to come first, John. Even above yourself.”

Another hand curled around his hip bone and Rhys’ eyes fluttered shut when he was pulled forward, forehead resting against the Alpha’s shoulder. “Rhysie…let me do this.” He felt rather then heard John’s swallow. “Let me have this.” A hand ran up his spine, resting lightly against his nape. “I always take good care of my things.”

The Omega sighed, arms wrapping around his middle. “Okay, John. Okay.”

A nose nuzzled at his throat and Rhys hummed, tilting his head back to allow the Alpha more access. A tongue found his bonding gland, lapping over the hormone engorged node. Rhys mewed, grip tightening as his cock filled out, his hole clenched around nothing. The tongue was insistent, dragging over the sensitive skin again and again until Rhys was a panting, sweating mess, held up only by the strong hands on his waist. He could feel John’s erection against his hip, could smell the Alpha’s aroused musk, and Rhys shook with it.

He felt no fear that John would bite down and Rhys wondered if he should; if perhaps he wasn’t being terribly naïve about this whole thing. But it felt so good as he panted against John’s skin, slick trailing down thighs and making his briefs uncomfortable, it was hard to really think. Hard to care. He felt safe in the Alpha’s arms, felt so terribly, wonderfully, terrifyingly safe. John pulled away, his own breath unsteady, and two stared at each other – a pair of panting messes – and Rhys fought and lost to hold the affectionate set from his features.

John’s expression softened ever so slightly, the hard lines on around his mouth and eyes smoothing out, and Rhys was already pressing up to meet his lips when he bent down. The moment was broken by the harsh beeping of John’s EchoCom and Rhys stepped back, blinking hard. John cursed, gesturing for Rhys to get back on the bed before wandering over to it.

“Connell.”

“…what exactly about our relationship made you think it was ever permissible to great me naked?”

“Mr. Tassiter.” John greeted and the strain to his voice was easy enough for Rhys to pick up from across the room. The Omega curled around John’s pillow, holding the fluffy thing to his chest as he listened to the hostile conversation with wide eyes.

“ – hope you’re enjoying your _vacation.”_

“With all due respect, sir, it’s the first vacation I’ve taken in over five years.” John said, wrapping a towel that was hanging over a nearby chair around his waist. “I made sure that everything was in order before I left and have been attending several parties with the intention of networking – fruitfully, I might add. Is my temporary replacement proving unsuitable? I could call and have a…talk with her if that’s the case.”

“She’s proving acceptable.” There was a sigh. “Of course nothing is a suitable replacement to your own presence. I wonder, did I make a mistake in promoting you? Perhaps I did, if you think you can just go about gallivanting around the Eden-system at a whim.”

_“Gallivanting –”_

“If you ever interrupt me when I speaking again, I will make sure that you spend the rest of your rather lengthy contract cleaning out urinals. Am I clear, John, or do I need to speak slower?”

Rhys buried his face in the pillow, embarrassed on John’s behalf and acutely aware that whatever John must be feeling was magnified a hundred times by his presence in the room. Nothing that Rhys had ever seen had ever made him imagine that anyone could get away to speaking to the Alpha the way Mr. Tassiter was. A part of him wanted to get up and leave the room, hide out in the bathroom or one of the suite’s other rooms, but he was also afraid that leaving may make everything that much worse.

“I see, sir.” John said stiffly, after a very cutting remark about John’s abilities. “I’ll see to it at once upon my return.”

“You’re _return.”_ There was a derisive snort. “Let us both hope you were as prepared for your vacation as you claim or you won’t have a job to return to.”

And then line cut out.

Rhys peeked up from the pillow, only to duck back down when the Alpha let out a vicious sounding snarl, lifting the chair up and tossing it. It shattered loudly against the wall, making Rhys flinch and cling to his fluffy shield that much harder. He frantically pushed the pillow away as John turned, not wanting the Alpha to know how unsettled he was by the whole thing. John stared at him for a long moment, fists balled tightly by his side.

“I’m going to kill that man.” John said, voice surprisingly even for the fury that dripped from his frame.

Rhys nodded, crawling to the end of the bed and rising to his knees to meet him as he stepped forward. He ran his hands up the Alpha’s stomach, pressing a kiss to his chin. “I know you will.” And Rhys did. There was no part of him that doubted that John wouldn’t find a way to do just that. It must have shown because the tension bled out John's frame, a hand coming up to stroke his cheek. “You’d be president then, wouldn’t you?”

“Would you like that, kitten? To be able to say you’ve fucked the Hyperion President?”

Rhys turned, pressing a kiss to his palm and threw him a wink. “I’ll put it on my resume, _‘Excellent at wooing enemy COs into bed.’”_

John snorted and Rhys laughed when he suddenly found himself on his back, the Alpha looming over him. “The only one doing any wooing around here is me, cupcake.”

“Sure.” Rhys agreed, tangling his fingers in the older man’s hair fondly. “Whatever you say, _sweetcheeks.”_

* * *

True to course, Rhys didn’t remember anything once his heat really kicked in. What he did remember came in flashes. Most of them were of John fucking him against anything and everything in the suite; against the headboard, on the rug, on the balcony, against the kitchenette counter, the balcony glass door, in the expansive shower with warm water pelting against their heads. Or it was of an unquenchable thirst and the feel of cool water, of a forceful voice telling him _“just a little more, Rhys. Yeah, that’s it baby. That’s my good boy.”_

He woke feeling like he’d gone a couple of rounds in the ring, but alive and only just dehydrated if the state of his mouth was anything to go by, and the Omega was stupidly grateful that John had kept his word. He rolled onto his back with a sigh, a hand coming up to feel the area bout his bonding gland. With the heat over it had almost completely lost it swelling and Rhys felt stark relief as he felt the smooth, unbroken skin there.

“Oh, he didn’t bond you.” A silky voice said and Rhys jack knifed in bed, staring open mouthed at the female Omega he found there. She was sitting at a nearby table, elegant frame outlined by the Eden-6 skyline, expression distasteful. “John would never bond with someone like you.” She ashed her cigarette. “I have to say, when I learned he was spending a heat with someone, I was worried. Now though,” she laughed, “I’m not so worried.”

“Who the fuck are you?” Rhys demanded, yanking the sheets up over his exposed body. “How the hell did you get in here?”

The Omega waved a card key at him. “I asked. You see, they gave it to me because I’m his fiancé.” Rhys reeled back, stunned. Nothing he’d read on the net mentioned a fiancé. Not that it would have changed anything, honestly, but Rhys never liked being caught unawares. The Omega laughed again, reading the source of his surprise for something else. “What? Did you think he’d bond with you? Some Promethean born whore? Honey, please.”

She was beautiful in the same way that porcelain dolls were, a strange untouchable beauty, and it made her anger just that much more intimidating. She ran a hand through her hair, pushing the raven strands behind her ear before putting out her cigarette. There was another harsh laugh and Rhys went still, feeling his blood freeze in his veins when he found himself on the wrong end of a pistol barrel.

“It’s Atlas made, I thought it was fitting.” Rhys swallowed. Just how much about him did this woman know? “Oh don’t look like that. I’m not going to kill you. I mean I was, but honestly? You’re not worth the time and money of a cover up.” The pistol lowered, but Rhys’ relief was temporary when she was suddenly at his side, viper-quick. Rhys flinched, hands digging into the mattress in fear as his chin was suddenly caught in a crushing grip. Nails dug into his skin, the Omega’s green eyes bright with anger. “But I am only going to say this once. Stay. Away. From John.”

“Genvieve!” Rhys let out a choked sound of relief when he was suddenly released, John coming from nowhere and forcibly yanking the woman away from him. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“What am I doing? What are you doing, you fucking prick!” The Omega snarled, slapping John hard enough the Alpha’s face snapped to the side. “Or did you think I wouldn’t find out that you’d spent a fucking _heat_ with another Omega?”

Rhys took the opportunity to sprint off the bed, grabbing a handful of clothing before sliding into the bathroom, ignoring the flare of pain as the pads of his cracked and dehydrated feet tore at the transition from wood to tile. He braced himself against the counter, every inch of his body shaking.

“So you pull a fucking gun? What were you going to do, shoot him?”

“It would have been my right!”

Rhys scrambled with the clothing, cursing when he realized that he’d only managed to grab his briefs and John’s boxers and shirt. He pulled all three on anyway, using the boxers as impromptu shorts over his briefs. The screaming outside was getting louder and louder and Rhys stared at the doorless opening from the corner he’d wedged himself into, eyes wide.

“He’s _mine!”_ John shouted, so loud that Rhys swore he could feel it in his chest, and suddenly there was silence. A long silence.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Genvieve asked, her voice wobbly with emotion. Rhys wondered if he should feel bad or, you know, guilty. He was the other Omega after all. But he dismissed the thought as soon as it came. John made his own decisions and Rhys refused to be held responsible for them. _“I’m_ your fiancé, I’m going to be your _mate,_ John, the mother of your children.”

“Yeah? Well maybe I don’t want kids with such a possessive cunt.” Rhys winced. That was harsh. “We’re not married, Genvieve. We’re not mated. Until you’ve got my ring on your finger and my bite on your neck, I don’t owe you anything.”

There was definite sobs now. “How can you say that? Johnathan, I-I love you. I thought you loved me. Why did you have to spend a heat with someone else? Aren’t I enough?”

There was a sigh. “Just – Just go back to your room, Genvieve. We’ll talk later.”

“No, I want to talk now. John, you can’t just–” A loud, dangerous growl silenced her. “…fine. But this isn’t over. Not by a long shot.”

Then the sound of a door opening and slamming shut, and Rhys let out a deep breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding. Footsteps drew closer and Rhys drew further in on himself at the sight of John standing in the bathroom doorway. For a long moment the Alpha just watched him, face closed off, before sighing wearily and running a hand through his hair.

“What were you going to do with that, kid? Conditioner her to death?” Rhys looked down, blinking in surprise to see that he was holding a large bottle of conditioner in his hand. He gave a strained laugh, setting the bottle back down on the counter.

“Good question.”

Another heavy sigh. “Look, Rhys, I’m sorry about all that. Genvieve can be a bitch.”

Rhys just shook his head, pushing past the Alpha and into the room. He spotted his pants crumpled next to the dresser and pulled the wrinkled things on, relieved to feel his card key and wallet still inside it. He toed his shoes on, socks be damned, and tried to ignore the weight of John’s eyes. “Well, I’d say it’s been fun but – you know, threat of bodily harm and all that.”

He turned to leave, intending solely to book it the fuck out there and get drunk off his ass for the last day of his vacation – preferably in the oversize bath he’d only glimpsed in his hotel room, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him. Rhys let himself be turned, refusing to meet the Alpha’s eyes. “Rhys…”

“Look, John,” he forced himself to look up, giving the older man a weak smile, “it’s okay. You never made me any promises and I wasn’t expecting – or looking – for any. This is...this is okay. I’m okay. Your engagement probably not so much. You don’t need to explain anything. Not to me.”

He hesitated, torn, before leaning into kiss him. A hand curled around his neck, urging him closer, trying to make it deeper, but Rhys pulled away. He let himself enjoy John’s warmth for a moment longer, their breath intermingling. It felt so strangely final and Rhys didn’t understand why. He’d meant everything he’d said. Rhys had never expected anything from their rendezvous, never expected or wanted any type of relationship with the Alpha. So why did his chest feel so hollow? He’d left all their encounters believing he’d never see John again, so why now did that idea make him hesitate? It had to be the heat-bond lingering, and even though Rhys knew that he felt rooted in place.

He forced himself to take a step back, then another. John’s hands twitched by his sides, as if in an aborted move as if to reach out, and the idea that maybe the Alpha was just as affected by the lingering bond gave him the strength to finally turn away.

“Goodbye, John.”

“…goodbye, Rhys.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my, what's this? Was that - was that actual plot? I think it was.


	5. Hera, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He sighed, bringing a hand up to rub at his forehead in annoyance. He wondered if everything was awkward because the last time they’d been together John’s psychotic ex had tried to kill him or if it was because of their minders. Because it was. Awkward, that is. Painfully so. He let out another sigh. “I was sorry to hear about your engagement.”
> 
> “Don’t be. Really dodged a bullet there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Un-betaed.
> 
> Rhys is a little more sure of himself. Jack is a little bit more jaded. And well. They still keep running into each other.

Rhys groaned, standing on his tip-toes as he stretched. He could feel the hum of the base beneath his bare feet, curling his toes slightly against the vibration. He swung down, laying his palms flat on the floor between his legs and slowly walked back further. Out of the corner of his eye he could see his assigned bodyguard – a dark skinned, surly Crimson Lance Alpha – shift ever so slightly from where he was standing guard at Rhys’ bedroom’s doorway.

At first it had been unnerving; the bodyguard was to never, ever leave Rhys side. _Ever._ If he’d been raised with any type of shame at all, going to the bathroom would undoubtedly have been a new slice of embarrassing hell. As it was, Rhys took all his fun in trying to elicit some sort of response from the dour young man. So if his morning yoga routines had grown slightly longer or Rhys had taken to going to sleep each night in the tightest pair of briefs he had – well, it was all just in good fun, right?

He let the stretch go, sliding his hands up his thighs and letting his ass cheeks squeeze tight in a way that he knew the pair of sleep pants he’d dawned for his morning workout pull just as tight. The Alpha’s hands twitched by his side and Rhys hid his grin as he popped up with a contented sigh.

“Well, Huxy,” another twitch, this time by the muscles of the bulky soldier’s square jaw, and Rhys moved towards where his suit was hanging, “let’s get this shit show over with.”

This year’s technology expo was being held on Hera, a densely forested planet that was a stronghold for the Hyperion Corporation. They were almost as entrenched here as Atlas was on Promethea, so Rhys hadn’t been utterly surprised when the board of directors had issued him an entire _squad_ of Crimson Lance to keep him safe. Treachery at these things were practically expected and Rhys was considered too valuable an asset to risk.

At twenty-five, Rhys was the youngest _anything_ to be promoted to president of a planetary branch, much less an Omega. That coupled with the fact that Tantalus’ production proficiency had upped by nearly forty-two percent in the last eight months that Rhys had been in charge meant the company was quite eager to keep him safe. And in line. Rhys had no misconceived notions that the Crimson Lancers were there just to keep him alive, they were also there to keep him from being poached by anyone.

Honestly, it was all kind of flattering.

Rhys dressed quickly but with just a tad bit more flare than normal, aware of _Huxy’s_ (and how the nickname made him snicker, even if it was just in his own head) eyes on him as he did so. It took him forever to get his hair right (this climate was making friz a real problem) and Rhys was cutting it rather close when he finally approached his Alpha-guard. Rhys nodded to the collected guards standing outside his door, hiding a yawn behind the back of his hand as they made their way into the elevator. The lift began to ascend and Rhys took the moment to straighten his tie, giving himself a wide smile in the polished metal’s reflection.

He only just caught Hux’s eye roll, pouting at the Alpha. “Hey now, gotta look my best.” He put his hands on his hips, shaking his head. “Honestly, Huxy, I’m starting to think we’re never going to be friends.”

Unsurprisingly silence greeted him. The elevator cab jerked suddenly as it switched tracks and began to move horizontally and Rhys sputtered as he was caught off balance. A – frankly _huge_ – hand caught him by the elbow, keeping him from smashing his face ungracefully into the glass sides. Rhys smirked, leaning into the touch, fluttering his eye lashes up at the stern Alpha.

“Why, Hux, you _do_ care.” The eye roll wasn’t even hidden this time. Rhys sobered slightly as he saw the large, cylindrical meeting room approaching on the horizon. “Seriously though, you ready for this big man?”

Hux’s dark eyes flickered to his own, a distinctive weary tint to them as he watched Rhys reach up to adjust the angle of his beret. Rhys had been kind of – okay, _really –_ annoying for the duration of their time together and the Omega wanted to be sure that his teasing hadn’t gone too far, especially since his life was pretty much in the soldier’s hands. Each representative was only allowed to take one bodyguard in with them.

“With this many big dogs in one room, things are bound to get a little…heated.” Rhys said slowly, letting the palms of his hands smooth over the metal of Hux’s breastplate. The Omega was careful to lean just _so_ into his space, catching his bottom lip nervously as he peered up at the Alpha from beneath his lashes. “Still, you don’t need to get involved unless you think it’s going above a normal pissing match.”

Those dark eyes blinked once, slowly, and Rhys fought the urge to squirm under the intense look. “…you don’t have to do that, you know.”

Rhys blinked in surprise, both at the comment and the unfamiliar, low rumble of the Alpha’s voice. “Huh?”

A meaty paw grabbed his hands, the grip startling gentle as they carefully pulled them off the polished armor. “That…Omega thing.” Hux said after a moment of Rhys staring. “I’d…I’m gonna keep you safe anyway, so you don’t have to…it’s my job, man.”

The last part sounded almost put upon, insulted even.

Rhys was painfully aware that he was just standing there, staring at his protector with his mouth hanging open unattractively. He snapped it shut with a thoughtful _‘huh.’_ It seemed like Rhys may have written Huxy off a little too quickly. He gave the Alpha a smile – a real one – one that grew as Hux blushed, shifting awkwardly.

“Sorry, man.” Rhys said with a blush of his own, rubbing at his neck in embarrassment. “You know how things work at corporate, it’s…it’s kind of hard to turn it off. I didn’t mean to offend you or anything.”

If possible, Hux’s dusky blush grew even more, overtaking his ears. “‘s okay.”

Rhys gave him a small smile, feeling a flair of unexpected fondness, before turning towards the elevator doors as the lift finally docked. He ran a hand over his slicked hair carefully, before folding them behind his back. He plastered his most disarming grin as the doors slide open.

_Showtime, bitches._

* * *

John was there.

Because, _of course_ John was there. Rhys tried to keep the surprise off his face as he entered into the first round of talks, but he caught his eyes drifting towards the tall, broad form of his former lover more than once. The briefing packet had stated that it was going to be one of his lackeys attending, so Rhys felt pretty justified in his surprise. It had been nearly two years since he’d last seen the greying Alpha (which was new, but the grey at his temples somehow added to his appeal instead of detracting from it) and considering the last time they’d been together they’d share a heat, Rhys thought he was doing pretty well keeping his attentions to himself.

It wasn’t like the brunet hadn’t kept an eye out for news on what the famous John Connell was doing with his life. If he was brutally honest, Rhys may have slightly stalked the man those first few months after Eden-6 and the heat. Rhys blamed the heat-bond; it had taken months to fade. Nothing that was unheard of, but it had lasted up the very edges of recorded heat-bonds, a total of nearly six months. Six months that had been filled with sex dreams that had Rhys waking up mewing, hips grinding into the mattress and hole open and slick, begging to be filled.

He had no idea if John had been similarly affected. What Rhys really knew about the Alpha’s movements in those months came from the gossip mags. There had been a moment – a stupid, terribly naïve moment when John’s engagement fell through and the rag mags were blasting the news on the front page for months – when Rhys had nearly sent out an email. Thankfully rationality won out, rationality and the realization of what something like that could cost him. He’d come too far to throw his career away on heat-bond inspired crush.

It had been the right call.

After all, it wasn’t like John had made any attempt to contact him.

Still some of his disquiet must have shown through in those first few moments because Hux had suddenly become his shadow, practically looming over his shoulder. The talks were long and boring (the first day always was, when everyone was still busy measuring dicks. Things would get way more interesting once they finally moved onto the show and tell aspect and began serious contract negotiations) and when they broke for a late lunch Rhys was stupidly grateful. He stepped out onto one of the several balconies that ringed the conference room – there were enough for each company attaché to frequent unbothered, something which could not be a coincidence – and let out a loud sigh as the doors slid shut.

“Huxy, I sincerely hope that’s not the pace for the entire conference.” Rhys quipped as he leaned against the railing. He lit a cigarette (okay, so maybe it wasn’t the passing fad that Rhys tried to convince himself and actual a full blown addiction, no biggie) and inhaled deeply.

“Those things will kill you.”

Rhys snorted, glancing over his shoulder and smirking when Hux’s eyes snapped abruptly away from the bend of his ass and studiously looked out at the treetops. “I’m sure something else will get me first. Like boredom.” His gaze flickered back over the never ending blanket of forest spread out before them. “Damn, that's pretty.”

“The view's not bad from here, either.”

Rhys jumped, hissing as the move spilled his freshly poured coffee all over his hand, glaring at John from where he was leaning in the open doorway, an unlit cigarette hanging from his lips, and shook the hot liquid off his hand. There was a surge of vindication at the way that Hux’s whole body twitched, a hand resting telling over his side arm. At least he wasn’t the only one caught off guard.

“Good way to get yourself shot, John.” Rhys said darkly, bringing the stinging skin up to his mouth. John snorted derisively, his eyes flickering to Hux dismissively. The Crimson Lance Captain stared back, expression just as unimpressed, and Rhys rolled his eyes, voice mumbled around the flesh in his mouth. “Come on boys, play nice.”

“Get a better leash for your dog.” John said as he pushed off the doorframe and joined Rhys.

“My dog’s got _teeth,”_  the Omega shot back, unamused even as he lit the taller man’s cigarette, “so maybe you shouldn’t poke him.” There was another snort, this time from a tall, beefy Hyperion Alpha would had taken up John’s place at the door. A rather impressive cybernetic implant stared out at them from a scarred eye socket. “John,” Rhys warned, crossing his arms, “I just want to enjoy my smoke break.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He waved over his shoulder blindly. “Play nice with the puppy, Wil.”

If possible Hux stiffened even further, lips pressed in a thin line as he and the Hyperion bodyguard engaged in a shameless glaring match. Rhys just shook his head in defeat, leaning back over the railing. John mirrored his movements and for a moment they just took in the serene beauty of Hera. From where the Hyperion HQ was you could only just see where the deforestation was taking place in the far north and for the most part everything just seemed like a fairytale painting.

“So,” John said after a long moment, ashing his cigarette, “I see Tantalus agrees with you. Youngest planetary president ever, I hear.”

Rhys shrugged, wrapping both hands around the warm mug. “Atlas recognizes talent.”

That earned him an amused – and belittling – glance. He chose to ignore it, standing and letting his hip rest against the cold metal as he observed the Alpha. He fidgeted, uncomfortably thrown. John somehow had a way of making him feel seventeen all over again. That thought struck him hard – not the actual thought, but the age part, and Rhys let out a soft sound of surprise. John’s head turned, eyebrow raised in question.

Rhys waved the attention away. “Nothing, just a thought.”

“Well, please. Share with the class.”

The Omega stiffened at the reminder of their bodyguards, turning back to face out over the wilderness, cradling his cup close to his chest. “It’s nothing, really. Just – thinking, about that tech expo on back on Promethea,” Rhys admitted, purposely keeping it vague, overly aware of the listening ears, “the one where we first met. I guess, I mean it just kind of hit me that we’ve known each other for nearly a decade.”

John watched him for a long moment before shrugging. “And?”

Rhys flushed, irritated. “I told you it wasn’t anything important.”

He sighed, bringing a hand up to rub at his forehead in annoyance. He wondered if everything was awkward because the last time they’d been together John’s psychotic ex had tried to kill him or if it was because of their minders. Because it was. Awkward, that is. Painfully so. He let out another sigh. “I was sorry to hear about your engagement.”

“Don’t be. Really dodged a bullet there.”

Yup. Rhys was done. This was just way too horrible, a strategic retreat was needed. He pushed off the railing. “Whelp, I’m going back in. I think they said something about there being sandwiches and salads down by the bar and I, for one, am starving.”

The sound of his name stalled him and the Omega glanced over his shoulder, brows furrowed in confusion. “…it was good to see you.”

Rhys blinked in surprise, unaccountably feeling a flush crawl across his cheeks. He reached out, fingers remarkably steady for what he felt and brushed a bit of ash from where it had settled on the Alpha’s jaw. John’s mismatched eyes darkened, his chest rising in a deep inhale as he scented, and Rhys tried to ignore the way he move made the knot in his stomach tighten.

He took in the stress lines around the tall Alpha's eyes, and the dark circles under them, and let his fingers stay against the smooth jaw for a moment longer than he probably should of. He looked…kind of horrible, now that Rhys let himself actually look. “Take care of yourself, John.”

Then Rhys was pulling away, moving past the burly Hyperion guard and towards the elevator. Hux followed him and Rhys waited until the elevator doors slid shut before bringing a hand up to rub at his eyes in frustration. When he let it drop he found Hux staring at him.

“What?” He snapped, resisting the urge to wrap his arms around himself, feeling painfully exposed. Hux just shrugged and Rhys bit back a snarl. “Stop that. No, seriously. Stop it. Just – Just get whatever you’re thinking right the hell out of your head because you don’t know anything.”

Another mute shrug.

Why the hell did John always – always manage to make Rhys…to make him…he pushed the thoughts away angrily, smashing at the button in a vain attempt to make the elevator move quicker.

“Fuck it, I’m getting a drink. A big one.”

* * *

The alcohol settled his nerves somewhat and Rhys felt renewed when they made their way out onto the forest floor for the weapons demonstration. He was more than a little embarrassed by his slip with John; he was concerned. Hux was in no way dumb – and neither was Rhys. He knew there was a very good a chance that whatever the hell that had been between he and John would be going in Hux’s report.

Corporate spies were shot on sight and often without anything that could remotely be considered a trial. Rhys would have to be careful and keep his distance, he could probably play the whole thing off as John being a one night stand or something – the Hyperion VP’s vivacious sex life was a thing of legends after all, but still. He needed to be cautious.

Torque won the draw and was up first to show off their newest guns and Rhys settled in for the show, resisting to the urge to lean against Hux. The testing grounds were cleared of trees and there were no seats, and the late afternoon drinks on an empty stomach had left him feeling in the need of a good nap. Still, he knew it was fairly unprofessional that he was practically leaning back into the stocky Alpha’s form, trying to hide his yawns behind deep breathes.

No one was expecting much; Torque was a small but growing corporation, nowhere on par with the big boys of Hyperion and Atlas, and while their guns often were impressive they weren’t anything ground breaking. Afterwards it would be hard for Rhys to pin down exactly when everything went wrong, or even really what happened. One moment he’d been debating about if it would be considered rude if he made his way back inside for another cup of coffee and the next the testing ground was rocketed with an explosion. Only Torque hadn’t even begun their display yet. 

Rhys yelped in surprise, wincing as shards from the rocky ground cut across his cheek and nose, and suddenly Hux was on top of him, his large frame taking the brunt of the explosion. The air was suddenly filled with a blaring siren, the lights on the side of the Hyperion building flashing red and yellow, and the entire testing grounds was filled with smoke.

There was a heavy weight resting atop him, still and unmoving, and for one long, disoriented moment Rhys just laid under it, confused. There was a harsh ringing in his ears and the entire left side of his cheek throbbed angrily. It was the pain that snapped him out of whatever place he’d temporary been sent to and Rhys stiffened, hands flying up.

“Huxy? Hux? Hux!” He rolled his guard over, letting out a whine when his calls were met with silence. He brought shaking hands up to feel for a pulse, eyes flittering shut in undeniable relief when he found one – strong and steady. Just knocked out then. Rhys reached down, freeing the pistol from where it lodged between the Alpha and the ground, crouching over his downed form as he glanced around the field – which had grown completely opaque with the smoke – mind rapidly trying to grasp what was happening.

Yellow smoke. Smoke canisters; deliberate attack. But not against Rhys, Atlas – Hyperion then? Or one of the others players?

There was the telltale sound of a firefight just in front of him and Rhys tensed, squinting into the smoke to try and see what was happening. A hand grasped his ankle and Rhys yelped, wincing at how loud the sound seemed even amongst the gunfire. He glanced down to find Hux staring at him, eyes hooded and hazy with pain.

“Run.”

“W-What?”

“Hips broken. Leg too, I think.” The Alpha rasped, wincing as he tried to move. “Go, hide in the woods.”

“You…I can’t just leave you here.” Rhys said, biting his lip nervously. He knew the protocol just as well as Hux did; Rhys wellbeing took president over his guard’s. Rhys’ responsibility was keeping himself alive and the secrets he carried out of enemy hands. But to just leave Hux like this, injured, felt…gross, wrong in a way that made Rhys’ skin crawl.

There was movement in the foggy air, dark figures moving closer, and both men tensed. A hand grabbed his shirt front, shoving him away. “Go.”

“Hux –”

The snarl the dark skinned Alpha let out actually made Rhys stumble to his feet, eyes wide and instincts alight and concerned. _“Go,_ goddamn’t. Don’t make this fucking pointless.”

“Hux,” Rhys choked out, eyes flashing from the approaching figures to the downed man. He shook his head, muttering a _‘I'm sorry’_ before sprinting towards the tree line. He glanced back only once he reached it, eyes wide and heart pounding as he took in the sight of Hux raising a black needle and stabbing it into his thigh. It wouldn’t be a healing hypo, those where still too new and expensive, even for Rhys Summerset’s personal guard, but instead an ungodly mix of chemical stimulates that had Hux lurching to his feet, panting.

The Alpha stalked silently into the smoke, reaching behind him to disengage the shotgun that rested on his back. Rhys held his breath, jumping with a wince at the sound of the shotgun unloading – followed by a barrage of small guns responding – and then silence. Rhys let out a moan of disbelief, not willing to let himself believe that his guard was dead. There was a rustling sound behind him and Rhys spun around, pistol at the ready. He let out a choked sound when John stepped from deeper in the woods, his own repeater aimed at Rhys. His bodyguard was a pace behind, looking incredibly alert and menacing, eye locked to the view point of a sniper rifle.

Rhys swallowed hard. “Tell me this isn’t you.”

“Rhys –”

“Hux is _dead.”_ The Omega snarled, white hot fury making his hands shake. Hux, with his gentle hands and endless patience for Rhys’ shit, who’d made him _run._ “He’s – He’s dead.”

John’s brows furrowed, the gun slowly lowering and Rhys felt his own shoulders sink in relief. “This isn’t Hyperion, kid.” He grunted, running a hand through his hair in annoyance. “If I had to put my money on it, I’d say this was Dahl.”

“Dahl.” Rhys repeated, pistol wavering slightly. John eyed him wearily before stepping forward, closing the small space between them. Rhys tensed again, but kept his finger away from the trigger. “Why do you say that?”

“Because,” John said evenly as he came to a stop in front of the skittish Omega, “their representative had the good luck to be taking a shit when the fireworks started. Convenient, don’t you think?”

“Why?”

“To make Hyperion look bad? The fuck I know, they wouldn’t be stupid enough to try and instigate a takeover on fucking Hera.” John shrugged and Rhys shuddered when fingers reached out to ghost around his lacerated cheek. “You hurt anywhere else, babe?”

He finally let the pistol fall, pointing harmlessly at the ground. He shook his head mutely, absurdly aware of how hot and steady John’s hand felt from where it rested on his neck. It was stupid how the touch held his attention with the sounds of a firefight still happening behind him, with John’s guard still tense and ready behind them. He stared at John’s booted feet, fighting the whine in his throat back by sheer force alone.

“Hux…I just left him.” Rhys said, his voice weak. He felt weak, he shouldn’t be so upset about an Alpha he’d known for less than two weeks dying for him. It was literally Hux’s job to die for him if necessary, and yet Rhys felt lower than low for just leaving him. “I…I should of made him come with me into the forest. Carried him or – or something. He was just a kid, I –”

The pressure against his neck increased, the grip wrapping more securely around his nape, but the pseudo-scuffing did little to calm him. He glanced up at the Alpha wearily, half expecting to find some sort of judgement in John’s eyes for his grief, but John was almost…concerned?

All of the sudden John’s gaze flickered behind him, eyes widening in alarm and suddenly Rhys was being pressed into the tree he’d hidden behind, John’s body a tight line against him. The Omega winced, hands wrapping around the broad form, pulling John in as bullets whistled through the air around them.

“Fucking _assholes.”_ John snarled, the repeater loud and angry so close to Rhys ear and the Omega turned his head from it, pressing an ear against John’s arm to try and muffle some of it. “Wilhelm!”

“On it.” The Hyperion guard was suddenly rushing past them and into the fray, Rhys staring wide eyed at the bellow that escaped the ferocious man.

“Oh man, I’m gonna have some fun cleaning this up. Coming onto my turf and fucking with my things like this. Trying to make me look fucking bad.” John seethed, mismatched eyes practically glowing with his fury. “Gonna fucking _eat their dicks.”_

That statement was just so absurd in the moment that Rhys couldn’t help the hysterical laugh that escaped him, nor the one that followed it, and the Omega fought back a wretch when a bloodied hand was suddenly pressed against his lips, smothering the sound. “Kitten, shut the hell up. Unless you want every one of these dickbags to know where we are.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Rhys muttered, pulling the hand away with a shuddering breath, still fighting back the inappropriate giggles, “I’m sorry. Just – what the hell, John?” He bit back another round of laughs. “‘Eat their dicks?’”

John stared at him with bemusement, brows furrowed, before looking away with a _‘tch.’_ Rhys shook his head, bringing a shaking head up to wipe at the tears in his eyes. He knew it wasn’t actually that funny. He wasn’t stupid, he recognized the signs of shock for what they were. But considering that there was _still_ the sounds of a battle going on, Rhys kind of thought he was allowed.

Rhys suddenly became very aware that his arms were still wrapped tightly around John’s waist, that there was a firm thigh nudged between his legs, an arm wrapped protectively around his head to keep it from smashing up against the tree as another held the gun steadily pointing into the smoke. John was standing so close that his chin was practically pressed against the side of Rhys’ as he peered past him. The man’s love of violence and obsession with Hyperion company's reputation was the only thing that outpaced his renown for being a sexual deviant, and it struck him then that the only reason he wasn’t out there next to his guard, cleaning up his company's mess, was because of _Rhys._

“John,” he said quietly, loosening his hold until his hands were resting just against the man’s hips, eyes locked on the corner of the Alpha’s mouth, “thank you.” He dared a glance up, aware that the soft words had grabbed the older man’s attention completely. He swallowed before clarifying. “For not leaving me.”

The anger on John’s face flickered, lips tugging down in a deeper frown. Rhys shifted nervously, wondering if he’d somehow said the wrong thing, or maybe read the situation wrong and just made a total ass of himself. But then the arm behind his head shifted, falling around his neck as Rhys was suddenly pulled closer. Rhys’ heart impossibly sped up and for one wild moment the urge to laugh returned; was he really about to be kissed? Now? By the VP of a rival company as gunshots and shouts echoed around them?

But no, John only pulled him close, his free arm settling tightly around Rhys’ lower back. Rhys’ eyes fluttered shut, tucking his face into the older man’s neck, careful to keep his injured cheek uncovered. His grip tightened, bunching the fabric of John’s suit jacket, as he let out a shaky breath. Despite everything, Rhys felt… He felt…

Safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Hope you guys liked.
> 
> Huh. Our first chapter without smut. Looks like we may have found actual plot, lol.


	6. Hera, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re right, princess. Firefights are not your thing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short, sweet, and un-betaed. PP = Planetary President, GM = General Manager, LLD = Light, Limited Duty.
> 
> Boy, was I surprised you all were sad I killed off Hux. Maybe I should bring him back or something...dunno.

“Cheese on a cracker that sounded like it sucked. Glad it was you and not me, buddy.”

“I dunno,” Rhys mused as he focused on trying to get the dirt from underneath his fingernails – he was getting a manicure when he got home asap, “you probably would have done better. I mean, you’re so short you could have just squatted behind a bush or something.”

On the other side of the vid-call Vaughn let out an indignant squawk. Despite their positions in rival companies (Rhys as a PP and Vaughn as one of eighteen accounting GMs working in the bowels of Hyperion) the two had kept in pretty much constant contact. It was easy enough; Rhys hadn't become the lead programmer of Promethea on good looks and quick thinking alone. Setting up a secure, untraceable means of communication for them was child’s play.

“I’m not short! I’m…I’m _fun sized!”_ Vaughn sputtered. “And I’ll have you know that some people like fun sized.”

“Some people?” Rhys shot the floating camera a sly smirk. “Would one of these people maybe be…oh, I don’t know…a five foot nine, broad shoulder blond with the prettiest green eyes I’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing?”

If possible, Vaughn only grew even more flustered. He brought a hand up to rub at the left side of his nose – a tell that always meant Rhys had _really_ managed to embarrass his friend. Rhys was still debating about whether or not he was going to keep pushing (hey, embarrassing Vaughn was fun and Rhys just had a really shitty day) when his friend sighed. “…Maybe. He, uh, left his wife.” Rhys’ hand dropped, attention completely focused on friend. “I mean, I know I shouldn’t feel bad about it. I mean, the cheating thing…kinda. But it’s been going on for _years,_ you know? Since Eden-6.”

Rhys did know. He also knew that the Dahl Commando was the only Alpha that Vaughn had ever shared a heat with. When Axton couldn’t get leave or the Omega couldn’t afford to take vacation, he went through it alone. Unlike Rhys Vaughn had never gone on birth control, of which a simple implant would have stopped his cycles completely. But Vaughn was also a bit of a health nut, so really it wasn’t that unsurprising.

“I mean, they never saw each other. They averaged like once a year – and you know Dahl would never put a husband and wife together on the same team, so they didn’t even do missions together. I mean, I saw him more than she did.” Vaughn was rambling. He only said ‘I mean’ that much when he did so and Rhys’ eyes narrowed, watching his friend’s blue-tinted face carefully. “So I shouldn’t feel guilty about anything. Not about them getting their bond nullified or divorced. I mean, I didn’t ask Axton to do it. I never put pressure on him or anything.”

“But he’s doing it to be with you, isn't he?” Rhys interrupted, suddenly understanding the situation. “Is he planning on leaving Dahl?”

Vaughn stared down at his hands. “He says he’s tired of their bullshit. And he’s been getting in trouble a lot. Ax feels like they don’t pay him enough for what he does and he’s tired of being their whipping boy. His words, not mine.”

“V, bro, you didn’t answer my question.”

“…I think so?” The other Omega said quietly. “I mean, I hope so. I think.” He let out a groan, hands coming up to tug at his hair. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m – we’re – doing, Rhys! I mean, I can’t imagine being with another Alpha. And being away from him for so long is getting harder and harder. I think he feels the same way; he’s taken more leave this past year than ever. And I – _what the hell am I doing, Rhys?”_

Rhys shook his head fondly, eyes soft but disbelieving. “Vaughn, I think it’s time you just admit to yourself that you’re head over heels for the guy.”

“Rhys–”

“Just hear me out for a moment,” he interrupted quickly, cutting the denial off. “You’ve never, ever spent a heat with another Alpha. I don’t think you’ve even slept with anyone else – well,” Rhys snickered, “besides me. The dude is leaving his wife. For you. He’s going to quit Dahl–”

“Maybe going to quit.”

“– so totally gonna quit – for _you._ I’ve seen the two of you together. It’s disgusting. It makes me feel like I’m going to vomit candy it’s so sweet.” He leaned forward, resting the palm of his hand on the soft sheets of the hospital bed. “I’ll tell you what you’re going to do. You’re going to move him in with you. Then you’re going to get him a job at Hyperion security. You’re gonna pop out a handful of pups and I’m going to have pictures of short little blond brats all over my desk and spoil the shit out of them.”

Vaughn laughed uncomfortably, but clearly couldn’t hide his pleasure at the idea. “You really think he’ll want that?”

“Oh yeah,” Rhys flipped his friend thumbs up, “and then the two of you can take over Hyperion and give me a _real_ challenge.”

There was a bubbly laugh that ended in a series of snorts. “Yeah, I can just vacuum Tassiter and Connell right out the airlock.”

“Out of the airlock, huh?”

Rhys nearly fell out of the bed, ending the call abruptly to the sight of Vaughn’s wide-eyed and horrified face. “J-John,” he managed to choke out, feeling his face burn at the sight of the (thankfully) amused Alpha standing in the room’s doorway. “I…uh…”

“Friends in Hyperion, cupcake? My, you do get around.” John stepped into the room, smile sharp and wicked, “should I be worried?”

“Of Vaug – my friend? No, no. He’s harmless.” Rhys said quickly, waving his hands frantically in denial. “If you even so much as looked at him he’d probably piss his pants. No threat there. Zero threat.”

John snorted. “Relax, Rhysie. I’m not going to off your buddy.” He made his way around the hospital bed, flicking at the clear IV bag that hung to Rhys’ left. “…a little dramatic all this, don’tcha think? For one little measly firefight?”

“Firefights aren’t exactly my _thing.”_ Rhys pointed out, annoyed, “and I’ll have you know that they’re just keeping me as a precaution. Probably because your bosses don’t want to be any more embarrassed then they are ready are by the attack.”

And Hyperion was embarrassed. None of the delegates had been killed, but quite a few had been harmed and Hux hadn’t been the only guard to die in the line of duty. Officially, the narrative was that it was a group of Hera natives (colonists who had originally settled on Hera to try and escape the reach of the big businesses that ruled the universe, but had inevitably been pulled back in when Hyperion had set its sights on the mineral and timber-rich planet) had staged the attacks in the hopes of making Hyperion take them more serious in their trade negotiations. Unofficially – well, a bunch of backwater natives didn’t fight like these guys did. Nor were they so well armed. No, John’s initial assessment was probably more accurate.

And everyone knew it.

“How’s the cheek?”

Rhys brought a hand up to gently probe at the bandage resting over his cheek. The treatment had insured that it would be healed in just a few days and without a scar too. “It’s alright. Doesn’t even sting anymore. They were more worried about the contusions.”

The finger flicking the IV bag stilled. “Contusions?”

He glanced down at his hands, wrapping them tightly around each other to keep them from fidgeting. “Turns out I bruised my liver and kidney pretty bad, either during the explosion or right afterwards.” When Hux and his armor had landed on him. “They said I probably didn’t feel anything at first because of the shock and adrenaline, but by the time they took me for assessment I was pretty messed up. I guess I was lucky there was no tears or internal bleeding, because…yeah, that’d be bad. Like, you know, dead bad. But I’m fine, I’ll be on LLD back on Promethea for a while. They wanted to put me on bed rest, but come on, my schedule can’t handle that.”

“You’re right, princess. Firefights are not your thing.”

Rhys glared out him, but his (undoubtedly witty) retort was cut off as the mattress next to his hip suddenly dipped with extra weight, a warm hand curving around his neck, catching his instinctive jerk backwards of surprise and halting it, and then John was kissing him. Rhys’ hands twitched against the sheets, eyes wide, before he sunk into it. The contact was gentle in a way that he hadn’t remembered their kisses ever being, it was something soft, something delicate, and Rhys felt something just as fragile stir in him at the feel of it.

Rhys’ let out a quiet moan when John’s tongue slipped into his mouth, letting the older man guide them back further against the pillows. His arms came up almost of their own violation to wrap around the Alpha’s neck, but a sharp flare of pain from his side that even the pain killers he was on couldn’t hide had him breaking away with a hiss. His fingers curled tightly around the edges of John’s vest, eyes squeezed closed as he breathed through the pain. He’d yet to really adjust to the idea that trying to lift his arms anything above mid-chest level was a bad idea and he paid for inattention now. It seemed like forever before it faded to a dull throb, but in reality it was probably less than a minute. When it finally calmed, Rhys let out a sigh of relief, body slumping backwards.

“T-That sucked.” He said with a breathy laugh, and he gave John a wobbly smile when he opened his eyes. “Remind me not to do that again.”

There was an increase of pressure against his neck (John’s hand, Rhys realized abstractly, which was still holding him) and then the Alpha was leaning in again. But it wasn’t for a kiss, even as Rhys face turned up for one. Instead there was the flush of warm breath against his lips, then his nose, and then a cheek was ghosting against his own. A nose nudged against his jaw, then again until Rhys obediently let his head fall to the side.

He felt his heart stutter when John nuzzled into the space behind his ear – where one of the strongest Omega scent glands was located. Scenting like that was a deeply personal thing and one not usually done except for family and lovers, and the feel of a nose pressed against it made Rhys’ body tingle. There was a puff of air against the skin as John exhaled and then the warm-wet contact of a tongue, and Rhys shuddered, breath escaping him in a pant. He bit his lip, biting down hard against the urge to squirm as the licks continued. Impossibly he felt a surge of arousal, even with the pain meds dampening everything, and he squeezed his thighs shut in an attempt to thwart it.

There was a light nip – the barest flash of teeth – then John pulled away. Rhys stared dumbly up at the Alpha, chest rising and falling rapidly, and the flush on his cheeks was so strong that Rhys could feel it. John’s eyes were hooded as he looked down at him, his fingers digging in slightly against the skin of his nape.

“Give that out to anyone and I’ll kill you.” John said, totally throwing Rhys with the non sequitur until he realized that a slip of paper had been pressed into his palm. Paper was not rare, per say, but it certainly wasn’t used very much anymore, not with how available palm-computers and other echo-net technology had become. But paper left no digital trail and any information on it was easier to erase.

Rhys stared owlishly at the numbers written in bright orange ink.

_Was this…_

He glanced up at the retreating back in confusion. "John?”

The Alpha gave him a two fingered salute over his shoulder as he exited.

_…John’s private number?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hah! It took Rhys ten years to get Jack's number. Annnnnd a liittle Axton/Vaughn for something different. 
> 
> (...John may have been worried)


	7. Tantalus, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhys opened his mouth, words on his tongue about his fears, about how freaked out he really was by Weaver, especially today, about how disturbing Dahl actions were and, in turn, how disturbing the home office was acting, before he shut it, shaking his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Un-betaed. Read the tags, though nothings been added that's too bad.

Rhys held his yawn in until the doors to his apartment closed and locked, blocking him from the view of his assistants, before letting it out. The exhaustion in the thing was echoed by the slumping of his figure, the fight and arrogance going out of him all at once out of the eyes of his underlings. The Omega toed his boots off, leaving them haphazardly by the doorway, before moving towards his bathroom. He debated about taking a shower, before deciding he was too tired for even that and settling for simply washing his face and running a brush through his flagging hair.

Things on Tantalus were growing tense. They had been for months, with Dahl making some truly bizarre moves on the other side of the continent that appeared far too much like mobilization for Rhys or his security advisors to be comfortable, and as a result security had tightened to the point of paranoia, and the feeling ran rampant around the Atlas outpost. If that wasn’t enough, Rhys had been dealing with a surge of internal strife. It could all be traced back to Jake Weaver (well, it could be if Rhys had any _proof,_ but then again if he’d had that he would have sent Weaver out for a surface stroll without an evosuit), Rhys’ Chief of Operation Officer who was not so subtly gunning for the Omega’s job.

A tall, well-muscled Alpha, Weaver had made no secret of what he thought of an Omega Rhys’ age running Tantalus. So far his wheeling and dealing hadn’t gained much traction – mainly because Rhys was so goddamn _good_ at his job that no wanted to see things shaken up too much less they lose their bi-annual bonuses. That being said, it wasn’t the everyday worker that Rhys had to look out for. It was the other department heads, who shadowed every one of Rhys’ decisions, itchy and ready to humiliate and weaken his position. There had been several people convinced they were going to get the PP job before Rhys, either through seniority or what the fuck ever, and they hadn’t taken a young, Omega upstart sweeping in and stealing their glory very well.

It all made Rhys really fucking tired and today he’d had a particularly bad run in with Weaver. And he head the bruises to show for it. Weaver had cornered him in the CEO breakroom, trying to use his bigger body to intimidate Rhys has he demanded to know just _when_ Rhys was going to ‘knot up’ and _what_ he was going to do to handle ‘this display of unchecked Dahl aggression’ as he ‘didn’t want to be stuck cleaning up some Omega-pup’s messes.’ Rhys had responded to the threat in the best way he could, by kneeing the Alpha hard in the nads. The prick had left a nasty bruise across his collar and right shoulder from he’d been attempting to hold Rhys in place. He could have called out for his guards, but Rhys (perhaps foolishly) was unwilling to give the other male the impression that the Omega couldn’t handle him himself.

Rhys had been pulling eighteen hour days trying to keep on top of it all and sleep had largely become a thing of the past, making him cranky and more reactive than normal. And honestly? He was nervous. Everything was so close to blowing up in his face, his control over the Tantalus board hanging by a thread, and military action with Dahl seemed more and more certain with each day.

He stripped quietly, pulling on a loose tank top before padding into the kitchen. He grabbed a meal shake, shaking it before popping the top and drinking the vanilla flavored thing as he stretched out atop his bed. He pulled his echo-display towards him, grinning for what felt like the first time in days when he saw that he’d had a message from Vaughn. He read through it with a laugh, shaking his head at his friend’s antics. Apparently he’d caught the attention of a female Alpha, someone named Yvette – or he thought he’d had, only to be embarrassed when she’d dressed him down for trying to (tactfully) redirect her attentions as he was already in a relationship.

Turns out she’d just wanted to be friends and Vaughn was terribly mortified about the whole thing.

Rhys sniggered as he finished his shake, setting it on the bedside table before glancing at the clock read out. He hummed, bringing a hand up to finger comb his hair before pinging John’s number. He felt his spirits sink when it went to voicemail, biting his lip in disappointment. But when the vid-camera clipped on, Rhys straightened and gave it his best smile. “Hey. Just was calling to say hi, I guess you’re busy. I’ll talk to you later.”

He ended the call, stretching out on his back, hands laying on his stomach. The thing with him and John…whatever the hell it was…was still somehow new and grey despite eight months having passed since John had given Rhys his number. The two corresponded through echo-mail and calls frequently. Occasionally they messed around, but most of the times they just talked, which was even more bizarre considering before the majority of their relationship had revolved around a handful of delightful fucks. As a rule they kept away from company business unless it was unclassified and Rhys had found himself looking forward to their calls, which at this point tended to be once a week or more if they could get away with it. Lately though – it’d been weeks since they’d managed more than just leaving messages for each other. Seeing John tonight would have been nice, but he understood. John probably had an even more demanding job then Rhys, and Rhys got that.

He was just about to fall asleep when his echo-com chirped. Rhys rolled over, squinting as he tried to read the neon letters in the dark room. He smiled when he saw _‘Handsome,’_ which was what John was listed as in his contacts. He cycled the camera on, pulling himself up to sit, the blankets tangling around his lap as he turned to face the camera.

“Aw hell, kitten. Did I wake you?”

Rhys snorted. John was notoriously bad at remembering the time difference between Elpis and Tantalus. He brought a hand up to rub at his eye tiredly, even as he gave the blue-cast Alpha a small smile. “Its fine, I wasn’t really asleep yet anyway. Too much to think about.”

On reflex Rhys followed those words up with his palm computer, sighing when he saw eighty-five unread messages blinking at him.

“Busy day?”

“Try a busy month,” Rhys corrected with another sigh, perusing the list and relieved to see that none were marked urgent, “things are kind of tense around here right now.” John’s eyes narrowed on the screen, leaning forward on his knees as he watched Rhys. Rhys shrugged helplessly, wishing he could talk about it. “…it’s just been…I don’t know, hard. I’m used to power struggles at this point, but they’re so _exhausting.”_

John nodded slowly.

Rhys rubbed at his neck, feeling slightly awkward and still nervous about showing any vulnerability to the Alpha. “I’m not naïve or anything, I always knew this shit was coming. I moved up the ranks so fast, especially for Tantalus where everybody seems to kind of flounder for the first few years. But, I don’t know,” he sighed heavily, “I’m so tired of it. I’m the PP for a reason, you know? Why does what I have between my legs have to make that fact so questionable?”

“It’s be that way even if you didn’t smell so sweet, kiddo.” John said as he stood, disappearing from the frame. Rhys could hear the sound of a drink being made in the background. “Jealousy is practically the name of the game when you start getting into upper management. They’d be out for blood even if you were a thirty-something Alpha.” John reappeared, a tumbler of whiskey in his hand. “You could just kill them.”

Rhys laughed, resting an arm against his bent knee as he rested his head against the palm of his hand. “I’m not quite high up enough to get away with that just yet, Mr. VP. And Atlas isn’t Hyperion. Shame though.”

There was a hum of agreement, ice clinking in the glass as John took a deep swig. The Alpha rested the glass on his knee cap, watching Rhys as the silence between them grew and stretched. The older man’s expression was blank and yet vaguely threatening, and the Omega shifted uncomfortably at it, wondering if John was in one of his moods. “…you gonna tell me who put their hands on you? Or am I just supposed to guess.”

Rhys jerked, a hand flying up to cover the darkening bruise on his collar bone. “Oh…uh…it’s nothing, it’s not a big deal.”

John’s flat expression didn’t change. “Looks like it hurts.”

Instinctively his fingers spread out, trying to hide more of the bruise – and its distinctive hand print shape – from the Alpha’s evaluating stare. “I handled it.” More silence. Rhys sighed, caving. “It’s my COO. He’s that Alpha thirty-something you were talking about, and apparently he was fairly certain he had the PP job in his the bag before I showed up and ‘stole it’ from him.” Rhys made sure to put air quotes on that, sarcasm heavy in his voice. “Asshole thought he could intimidate me, but I don't think that he actually meant to hurt me. I kind of surprised him.”

“Oh?”

“I’m pretty sure I kneed him hard enough that if he wants pups in the future he’ll have to talk to a doctor about it.”

That earned him a low, delighted laugh, and the tilt to John’s mouth was distinctively approving. “That’s my boy. You still coming to the expo in Dionysus?”

“God yes,” Rhys said with a happy sigh, stretching both his hands above him, “and I’m so looking forward to it. It’s probably not wise, but I don’t think anyone would dare to try anything while I’m gone. Corporate is sending over one of the board members to oversee things while I’m gone.”

Rhys realized what he said a second after it had left his mouth, cursing himself silently as John’s expression sharpened at the information. That was unusual in the scheme of things; usually Rhys’ second-in-command, the COO (which, unfortunately, in the case was Weaver) and department heads would just run things while he was gone. The fact that Atlas was sending someone over meant that something big was going on. And with all the infighting (which Rhys – and he was sure no one else – had reported but he doubted that the home office didn’t know about) and Dahl’s recent moves, well, something big was definitely going on.

“John.” Rhys warned, sounding as exhausted as he felt.

“Yeah, yeah,” the Alpha drawled, tossing back what was left of his drink, “don’t get your panties in a twist. I remember our agreement, ‘no business talk.’” Rhys let out a soft sound of thanks, letting himself topple over onto his side, stretching out over the bed as he watched John move about lazily. “I should let you sleep.”

Rhys bit his lip. He was tired, but… “Can you stay on? Just for a little bit longer?”

John stretched out on his office couch, long legs crossing as they thumped down on the coffee table. “Sure thing, babe. What do you want to talk about?”

“Anything.” Rhys said, fighting back another yawn. “Anything that isn’t expense reports.”

John chuckled at that, hands folding behind his head. “Well,” he said slowly, dragging the word out, “we could talk about how fucking sexy you look right now.”

Rhys snorted. “About as sexy as a wet dog, I bet. Have you seen my hair?”

“Jeez, you and your hair. Vain little thing.” The Alpha scoffed with a roll of his eyes. “I’m talking more about those long ass legs of yours. Or how that shirt just hangs off you. You’ve got great nips, pumpkin. Anyone ever tell you that?”

Rhys honestly could say no, no one had ever told him his ‘nips’ were great, and he told the older man that with a disbelieving shake of his head. “You’re such a pervert.”

“Ain’t perversion if you’re just stating a fact. Come one sweetheart, why don’t you pull that aside and give us a better look.”

Rhys watched him for a moment with bemusement, wondering if he was really in the mood for all this right now, before sliding the tank top strap off his shoulder. It fell loose immediately, displaying the entirety of his left breast. He let his fingers drift down, brushing lightly over his nipple, breathe hitching as the responsive thing pebbled immediately to the touch. Okay, maybe he was in the mood. He swirled his fingers over it again, biting his lip as it grew even more sensitive. He rolled onto his back, slipping off the other strap and reaching up and fondling his other breast. They were small, just like all male Omegas, hardly an A-cup even when he was in heat, but it still felt wonderful.

His legs twitched, thighs rolling against each other as he increased the pressure of his touch, gasping as he finally gave in and tweaked both nubs, feeling his cock slowly filling out against his thigh. Rhys licked his thumbs and forefingers, letting out a sigh as he pressed the wet digits against his nipples. His legs spread wide, cock fully erect and straining against his briefs, and Rhys let out a pleased moan. With everything being so crazy, he hadn’t had any time for _self-maintenance_ lately, and it showed in how quickly his body heated up over the simple touches. His tank top was bunched around his stomach now, a hand having pulled up the bottom so he could stroke along the sensitive expanse of his stomach, and a groan brought his attention back to the vid-call.

“Set the camera on tracking, babe,” John ordered, his voice low as he loosened the top buttons of his shirt, a sizeable lump already in his pants, “if you’re gonna give me a show I damn well better be able to see it.”

Rhys nodded, mouth dry, and a quick few finger taps against the controls had the small camera detaching, floating above and slightly to the left of him. The Omega bit his lip harder, squirming at the sight of John eagerly undoing his fly. He felt his breath catch as John’s pulled his cock out, just like it did every time he saw it. The Alpha pumped it once, eyes looked intensely on the screen. “Strip.”

Rhys scrambled to obey, pulling his top and underwear off, shivering slightly at the cool air in his apartment.

“Shit, sweetheart, you're so fucking pretty.” John said with a pleased sigh, the palm of his hand rolling over his cockhead. “Come on now, give me a show.”

The Omega moaned at the order, a hand sliding down to cup his cock while the other focused on worrying his nipples. He threw his head back, chest heaving, stunned at how quickly he’d gone from nothing to full blown arousal. He really needed make sure he was taking the time to take care of himself; this couldn’t be healthy. Rhys whimpered, hand abandoning his chest to slide further down, circling his wet hole tauntingly. God, he was already so _wet._

“Can’t wait for Dionysius. I’m gonna fuck you right on the conference table, right in front of all the other delegates.” John growled out, and Rhys forced his eyes open to watch the Alpha. He was pumping his cock quickly now, the head glossy with pre-come. “Make them all watch as I fuck you senseless. You like that idea, baby?”

“John-”

“Jack,” John interrupted, voice harsh and edgy, “call me Jack.”

Rhys’ rhythm faltered; John had mentioned once or twice that he wasn’t overly found of his given name, something that only just been hinted at to do with his upbringing and his bitch of a grandmother, but this was new. Still, it was a small thing to give.

“Okay,” Rhys panted, slipping two fingers inside himself, body shaking at the feeling, “is that what you want, Jack?” He asked, legs spreading as wide as they could as he fucked himself roughly, barely giving himself anytime to stretch. “You want all those Alphas seeing this?” He slammed his fingers in – four deep now – as if to prove a point. A loud growl was his only answer, and Rhys grinned, rolling onto his stomach to hide it. He dug his hands into his covers as he hiked his hips up, chest and face resting against the bed. “You want them all to see how good I take you?” He slid the fingers of his right hand back, folding them carefully into a compact ‘v’. “How much I love being plugged up?”

Rhys stumbled over the taunt as he slid his fingers knuckle-deep, feeling his muscles clamp down hard before forcing them to relax. His cock was leaking heavily, and Rhys knew that it would take barely anything for him to come. He slid his fingers in deeper, up to the second knuckles, his other hand curling around the blankets to keep from coming. Out of the corner of his eye he could just see John – Jack, one hand curled tightly around his knot as his hips chased his other hand.

“It’s been so _long_ since I’ve had a knot, Jack. I keep doing this, but it’s not e-enough.” Rhys whined, eyes rolling up as he forced his hand in deeper. “My hand’s j-jus’ not big enough.”

There was a harsh _‘fuck’_ from the other end of the line.

“Everyone keeps offer’n me,” Rhys goaded, his Promethean accent coming out thick, “my guards, m-my underlings. Even my C-COO. I know that’s what he was thinking about, when he had me pinned. He was thinking about just pushing me down-”

There was a vicious snarl, but Rhys couldn’t bring himself to stop, even if he knew that teasing an Alpha like this always had consequences. He and Jack may not be together technically – hell, he didn’t even know if they were exclusive (even though Rhys himself had been fairly virginal lately, too nervous to risk taking a lover to bed with the political atmosphere being the way it was) but Rhys was still the Omega Jack sometimes fucked, an Omega he’d shared a heat with, and despite his earlier words Jack was not someone who _shared._

“-and shoving his knot in me.” He’d reached the widest part of his hand and it burned, but Rhys kept on, knowing the sweetest part was coming. “Sometimes I can just feel it. Feel their eyes on me in a meeting, just – just thinking about it.” He let out a mewling whimper when his hand finally slipped in, sinking up to his wrist with an abruptness that stole his breath. Rhys curled his hand into a fist, twisting it just so – so that his thumb pressed against his prostate and pressed against it hard. “B-But I don’t let them. I c-can’t, because-”

_“Because you’re **mine.”**_

“Jack!” Rhys shrieked, barely remembering to the use the right name, body spasming at the feel of being so full. He came hard, his wrist and palm aching as his insides locked down, free hand clawing uselessly at the covers as his legs kicked out wildly, toes curling. There was a muffled curse and Rhys barely managed to turn his head, somehow finding the energy to watch as Jack painted himself with his own come, head lulling listlessly against the back of his sofa, hand knuckle-white in its grip around his knot. After another long, colorful stream of curses, Jack’s head cocked forward to glare at him.

“You little shit,” the Alpha growled, voice dangerous in a way that made Rhys’ insides tighten with promised pleasure. “I’m gonna destroy your ass for that.”

“I’m counting on it.”

Jack just shook his head in disbelief, wiping his hand off on his pant leg. Rhys just laughed, though the sound turned into a whine as he pulled his hand free, his stretched hole flexing and clenching down on nothing, his knotting muscles instantly achy without the pressure of something to press against them. Jack let out a sound of appreciation and Rhys shuddered as he let his hips fall back onto the bed, wiping his slicked hand, uncaring, off on the sheets. Eating Rhys out after a knotting was one of Jack’s favorite things, and the Omega knew that he was imagining it now with how hungry his eyes watched, his tongue darting out over his lips.

He grinned smugly as he stretched out, every inch of him loose and content after his orgasm. A wave of his hand had the camera sinking back into the echo-computer’s cradle. He yawned, reaching out and hugging his pillow close to his chest, and tried to ignore how badly he wanted it to be Jack.

“Go to sleep, Rhys. I’ll call you soon.”

“Jack?”

“Hm?”

“I missed you.” He admitted quietly, as he burrowed into the soft fluff, curling his legs up. On the screen Jack froze before relaxing back, expression a strange combination of lazy-attention, but Rhys was too tired to really notice.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll see you soon. It’s less than a month till the expo.” Rhys nodded, blinking hard against heavy eyes. “Get some sleep.”

“Jack.”

“Rhys.” The Alpha’s finger hesitated over the button that would end the call, voice amused.

Rhys opened his mouth, words on his tongue about his fears, about how freaked out he really was by Weaver, especially today, about how disturbing Dahl actions were and, in turn, how disturbing the home office was acting, before he shut it, shaking his head. He pulled his sheets up, covering his naked body, and let out a soft _“goodnight,”_ instead.

Jack watched him for a moment, brows furrowed, before giving him a lopsided grin. “Night, baby. Dream something nice. Preferably about me.”

Rhys didn’t even have the energy to flip the camera off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...And John is now Jack, at least to Rhys. And thank god for that. I had to use Word Check to make sure I hadn't been using 'Jack' instead of 'John' for like every chapter. Things are starting to get a little dicey on Tantalus. As we move closer to the plots of the games, Dahl's going to start doing more and more naughty things. On a side note, self-fisting for the win.
> 
> (Is a pervert)


	8. Dionysius

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I…yeah.” Rhys finished dumbly. He hesitated for a moment, aware that such an offer was anything but ‘not a big deal’ before relaxing once more against Alpha’s broad form, fingers curling into Jack’s chest hair. “Yeah, options are…good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super un-betaed, written from my phone while on deployment. 
> 
> Read new tags; warning for attempted bad touch and rough sex.

The first thing Rhys did upon arriving to his hotel room on Dionysius was pull back the shades of the honestly gigantic window, and felt his breath catch at the impressive majesty that was his view. The minty green beaches that Dionysius were renowned for stretched out in every direction, dotted with colorful beach umbrellas and golden lifeguard stations, and the color complemented the purple seas (a light lilac in the shallows, a deep lavender in the depths) beautifully. The five moons – each a different shade of aqua or green – hung low and big in the sky, adding to the fantasy element of the resort. While Rhys would have been hard press to think of anywhere more beautiful than Eden-6, Dionysius certainly gave it a run for its money.

The temperature here was always a cool and comfortable eighty-three, and Rhys threw open the balcony doors, letting in the refreshing ocean breeze in. He stripped from his tailored suit to a pair of butter soft pastel pink Bermuda shorts and an equally festive powder-blue button up, and slipped his feet into a pair of waiting boat shoes – the latest trend on Dionysius, these light grey and blue loafers had cost Rhys a pretty penny, but were totally worth it, the Omega decided as he checked himself out in the mirror.

He slipped out of his room, ignoring the butler that waited at his station just outside the suite doors, and headed down to the bar. He had a day before Jack would be arriving on planet and two before the conference started, and Rhys was planning of enjoying as much of his mini-vacation as he could. Things on Tantalus were an absolute mess, with every moment of every day spent in pointless power struggles and security meetings that were just militaristic enough to set his nerves on edge.

Weaver was no longer an issue; with bruises as his proof, Rhys had managed to talk to an Omega board member (the only Omega board member, a no-nonsense woman who Rhys may or may not consider an idol – in the work sense at least, certainly not in the fashion one) and gotten her sound permission to remove him. Just a day before he’d left for Dionysius, Rhys had the pleasure of watching Weaver’s purpling, infuriated face as he was accompanied by security to clean out his desk and catch the next flight off-world.

But it was a short-term fix in the long sense of things; there were hundreds Weavers just waiting to take Rhys out and steal his job. The Omega knew he’d have to stay alert or risk losing everything. And then there was Dahl.

But no, Rhys wasn’t going to think about that situation, at least not for a little while. Instead he strolled into the level twenty bar (an exclusive setting, only for those who could afford the rooms above it), reveling in the interested eyes that followed his steps, and ordered himself the fruitiest drink they had. Feeling content and happy, Rhys stretched out on one of the outside lounges, watching as sailboats navigated the sea, and downed his pink drink. If he was lucky, maybe he’d even grab some much need sun. His echo eye pinged a message alert and the Omega grinned as he opened the com-text from Jack.

**I may kill some people soon.**

Rhys sniggered, ignoring the Alpha would sat down on the lounge next to him despite the fact that there were a dozen other open ones. His fingers flew over a keyboard only he could see in response, ignoring the sizing look he was given. **I don’t think your investors – or your boss – will like that very much.**

He received a response back almost instantly. **Fuck my boss.**

Rhys giggled. **I’d rather you not – but then again he has seen you naked.**

There was a long silence after that (of which the Omega felt positively gleeful) and he was about to send another teasing text when the Alpha besides him threw him a charming grin. Rhys gave him a faux shy one in response, ducking his head coyly even as he read the lurid and rather aggressive text from Jack involving Rhys, himself, and some rather alarming imagery about his boss’ dead body.

 **Touchy,** Rhys sent back, **why haven’t you left yet?**

 **Because I’m in the middle of a very important meeting over shit that should have been on my desk two days ago.** He could practically hear the Alpha’s irritation through the words, **so again, people may die.**

 **Well hurry up,** Rhys sent as he accepted a drink offered by the flirty Alpha, biting his lip as he brought the whisky up to hide his amused grin, **I’m beyond thirsty Jack and the locals here are rather appealing.**

Again, the return message was almost instantaneous.

**I’ll be there soon. Behave.**

Rhys had no intentions of doing otherwise, but a little poking was fun – and almost always ensured a particularly interesting fuck – and so he didn’t respond, stretching himself out and giving the Alpha next to him a warm smile instead. Yeah, he really needed some time off of Tantalus and Rhys planned on enjoying every second of it.

* * *

Rhys met up with the Alpha he’d meet at the bar – Ashton, a forty something with dirty blond hair and piercing blue eyes – for brunch the following day and a shopping spree, enjoying himself as Ashton picked up the tab for everything. He sould have felt bad about the whole thing, but in all honestly he didn’t. Rhys hadn’t promised anything – and besides a handful of winks and flirty smiles – had never returned any of Ashton’s come-ons, and if the Alpha was willing to drain his bank account on the mere chance (one that would fail) that he’d get laid…well, Rhys wasn’t going to feel guilty about that.

Besides, he’d been in constant contact with Jack via text all day and it’s not like he’d hidden the fact that he had an Alpha in his life – in whatever form he and Jack were – from the other Alpha. After shopping for so much sailing gear, it only felt natural to both that they rent a yacht crew to take them out and they spent a very enjoyable afternoon and evening out swimming and sunbathing on the sea, having a delightful lunch under the maroon sun and amongst the gentle waves.

They’d come back in when the sun set, deciding on a late dinner at the bar. Jack should be arriving soon, so Rhys wasn’t planning on staying for long, but he really did hate dining alone. It was when he was ordering a drink at the bar while waiting for their waitress that Rhys saw his first bit of news for the day. The Omega felt his eyebrows rise sharply, lips parting at the print that scrolled across the muted news channel.

**_…108 killed in hostile take-over of Hyperion, stocks rise sharply following new CEO Handsome Jack’s release of financial portfolio…_ **

Pictures flashed of bloody hallways, of an equally bloody meeting room, and of Jack himself – standing tall like some triumphing Alpha-warrior of old – grinning manically at the photographer. Rhys felt his lips twitch in an amused/pleased smile, chuckling as he wondered at his own sanity. The fact that his sort of boyfriend had killed a clean half of Hyperion’s upper bureaucracy should fill him with some sort of unease, surely, but all Rhys felt was a rather telling tightening of his lowers at the news.

“Handsome Jack, huh?” Rhys whispered to himself as he made his way back to Ashton, ignoring the bemused Alpha’s expression as he laughed into drink. But all Rhys could think was of the gleeful fact that was fucking arguably one of the most powerful men in the galaxy. Fuck it, if Atlas didn’t work out…well... Even if he wasn’t planning on any such nonsense happening, as he’d worked too hard and too long to get where he was to just throw it away, no matter how nice of a dick Jack had.

“Yeah, crazy isn’t it?” Ashton said, voice lowered as he leaned across the table to Rhys, “I met him once. No! Really, I did. We went to the same undergrad, back before he changed his name. I always kind of knew the guy was…not right up there, but this shit is crazy. A hundred people…I mean, even for Hyperion that’s insane.”

Rhys just laughed and ordered the most expensive thing on the menu. He couldn’t help but wonder what Ashton – or the whores that raised him – would think if he knew who Rhys was planning on meeting in just a few hours.

* * *

Something was wrong.

Rhys panted as he curled in on himself, hands wrapped tightly around his middle. Heat seem to eat him alive, the inferno radiating from lowers and coming in painful, abrupt waves that seemed to rob him of any type of coherence. Ashton watched him, his face concerned and his grip on Rhys’ arm the only thing keeping him from collapsing onto the elevator floor.

“I need…” Rhys managed to gasp out, only for the words to fade into nonsensical mumblings as the doors opened to the pent house floor and the Omega stumbled out, guided by the iron-like grip on his arm.

“Shh,” Ashton hushed, jostling Rhys about as he searched the unsteady man for his room card, “its okay, sugar. I know what you need.”

 _Heat,_ Rhys realized all at once, _he was in heat._ The realization was like a physical blow, making him stumble and fall to his knees in the foyer before his suite. It was impossible, Rhys wasn’t supposed to be able to go into heat. The little pills he took every day ensured it! But even as he ran through his denials, the Omega could feel the slick that was soaking through his briefs. Everything felt heavy and confusing, as if he was thinking from underneath a great weight, and Rhys blinked slowly from where he leaned against the hallway wall, staring out at the high moon and starry night sky.

Ashton reached for him and Rhys struggle weakly, some still functional part of his mind beginning to understand what was going on – what the Alpha’s continued presence meant. “N-No, I don’t want – I don’t…S-Stop…”

“Hush, no shh.” Ashton whispered as he continued his search of Rhys’ pockets for his keycard. “It’s okay, baby, this is going to be so good for both of us. I promise.”

Rhys shook his head, both embarrassed and infuriated by the tears he felt building. He pawed uselessly at the Alpha, his hands weak and blows without force. “N-No, I…I have an A-Alpha. What did you give me?”

“Nothing you didn’t want.” Ashton said, tone conversational as his hands pushed further down into Rhys’ tights pockets. “Don’t pretend, Rhys. Spending all that time together; watching you prance around in that tiny speedo. You’re gagging for it.”

“If he is, it isn’t for your disease-ridden dick.” A voice snarled, the tone cold and iron-like. In front of him Ashton froze and it took Rhys far longer than it should have to realize that Jack was standing in the open door of his suite, expression furious as glared at Ashton.

“Y-You-” The rest of his sentence was lost behind the sharp, loud explosion of a gun and Rhys watched as Ashton fell lifeless at his feet, a neat hole in his forehead, and queerly felt his lust bloom even fiercer. He stumbled towards Jack, whining piteously as he gripped at the stone-still Alpha’s form for some kind of purchase as his knees weakened.

“Jack…” The Alpha’s arms caught him when his legs finally gave out, holding him effortless. “Jack, he gave me…I think…I’m in _heat.”_

There was a muted snarl. “I can smell, princess.” The grip on his forearms tightened to the point of pain, Jack’s mismatched eyes burning brightly in his anger. “Do you have any idea what the fuck would have happened to you if I wasn’t here?”

Rhys mewed, entire body shaking as he was hauled into the suite’s entryway, the door crashing shut before he was slammed front-first against the nearest wall. Teeth set against his neck, biting harshly as Rhys arched into the touch.

“He would have raped you,” the Alpha seethed, “he would fucked you, split you open without a second thought, made you fucking _dirty_." Jack was far too coherent, his hands going far to slow as they pulled the soiled and sodden shorts and briefs from Rhys’ hips. “And you would have whimpered like a little bitch and took it, wouldn’t have you? Just sat there and loved it, desperate for anyone’s dick.”

Rhys managed to gasp a denial, eyes splaying wide in stunned surprise as Jack fucked into him rough enough to cause shocks of pain to burst across his insides, at the same moment the Alpha let out a half-insane sounding growl of _“I told you to_ behave!”

“I didn’t want him!” Rhys sobbed, hands clawing at the wallpaper as the pain grew – even as hips desperately flew back to meet each brutal thrust. “O-Only want you, Jack, please!”

But the hips driving into him were unforgiving, the pace brutal and painful, and Rhys howled when the Alpha bit down hard enough to draw blood, just a hair’s breadth from his bonding gland. He came suddenly and violently, his potentless seed painting the wall, but nonsensically Rhys stayed hard. His hands flew back, tangling into Jack’s salt-and-pepper hair, begging for more even when he felt like he was going to break with it.

“Fucking slut,” Jack breathed, but Rhys could hear the strained affection that tinged it, and Rhys was full-blown crying, nosily and wet, when Jack’s knot flared and tied them. It was abrupt, the knot catching roughly when the Alpha tried to pull it out again, and Rhys sobbed loudly when he came again, his body held up only by the knot inside him and Jack’s tight grip.

The Alpha roared when he came, his fist slamming out and denting the wall less than an inch from Rhys’ face, but the Omega was too blissed out from the knot inside him to do more than blink at it in shock. Jack was trembling behind him, hips jerking forward as he came and came and _came._ It felt wonderful, the heat inside him dying off to nothing at its presence. The chemical he’d been given to start an artificial heat wasn’t strong enough to do more than throw him into one desperate round and Rhys could already feel his lucidity returning in full.

The Omega loosened his grip on Jack’s hair into something gentler, running his palms down to cradle the larger man’s skull. It was awkward at this angle, but Rhys felt something soften in pleasure at the pleased sound that earned him, or from how Jack carefully withdrew his teeth, placing a soothing lick than a gentle kiss over the deep bite.

“Jesus, Rhys. Am I gonna have to leash you to keep you out of trouble?”

Rhys laughed weakly, wincing as the move jostled the swollen dick inside him and made his tender insides ache. “I swear, I’m usually way more careful than that.”

There was a huff against his neck and the Omega whimpered as hands slid under his thighs and lifted him, bodily carrying them over to the nearest sofa. Jack collapsed back onto it and after a moment of confusion following the controlled fall, Rhys let himself go loose against the Alpha’s broad form, nuzzling into a sweaty neck.

“I’m almost sad you killed him so quick, the little prick.”

“Yeah, well, I had other things on my mind.” Jack said, pinching Rhys’ thigh sharply. “A hell of greeting, kitten.”

Rhys simply hummed, feeling his heavy eyes fall half-lid. He realized that he still had his shorts and underwear around his knees and shifted to kick them off, breath catching as the motion sent a cursing Jack into another series of little orgasms.

 _“Fuck.”_ The Alpha groaned, hands pinning Rhys still against his chest. “Sit still and shut up for a little bit, will ya? Some of us have had a busy day.”

“Oh, I heard.” Rhys said with a grin, craning his head back to get a better look at his lover. “Did you really off half of your staff?”

The smile that earned him was downright _vicious._ “Can’t make an omelet without breaking a few eggs and all that shit.”

Rhys sniggered as his hand came up, stroking stinging bite on his neck. Jack often played with that area when they were together, but he’d never bite him so close to the gland before. “…cut it a little close, don’t you think?”

There was an annoyed, put upon sigh. “Maybe I missed. ”

Rhys laughed, ignoring the strange frown and irritated look the sound earned him. “I am glad you were here, Jack.”

“Someone has to save you from your own stupidity.”

The Omega huffed, but let his eyes slip close in exhaustion as the fingers of one of his hand played with the pleats of Jack’s sweater. He tried to ignore the throbbing ache at his neck, and the quiet little voice in the back of his head that was whispering that maybe – _maybe –_ Rhys wouldn’t have minded it too much if Jack hadn’t missed, but it was there nonetheless.

* * *

The sun beat down on Rhys’ pale skin, but the Promethean-born man enjoyed it. He was stretched out on a beach towel, trying to forget the shit storm that had been the first week of the tech expo. It seemed that far too many people were aware of the troubles on Tantalus than Rhys would have liked and he’d spent the majority of the day fielding comments and questions about Atlas’ tentative (and growing even weaker) hold there without giving too much about how much trouble his branch was really in at the same time. And avoiding the Dahl representative. Rhys had done that with an enthusiasm that bordered on pathetic, but he was fairly certain if he didn't he'd be arrested for _murder._

They’d ended the day shortly after lunch, everyone overly frustrated with each other, and Rhys had taken a privately charted yacht out to one of the more remote islands in the hopes of finding some sort of peace. Dionysus was a neutral planet, independently owned by a rather rich old Beta couple who somehow had built their wealth independent of the giant corporations that owned much of the universe, and as such Rhys had managed to get away with having no guards here outside of the actual conference.

As such, he was enjoying his privacy. It was a true luxury, as the climate back on Tantalus had led to Rhys having a small squad of personal guards with him at all times. To just be alone was oddly blissful. He was just on the verge of sleep when he was aware of someone settling into the next to him. The Omega peeked an eye open, the musky scent he’d picked up already identifying Jack as his new companion even before he’d caught sight of the man.

For a long moment he simply looked, taking in the bare chest and sharply defined muscles that had lost nothing in age, including the alluring ‘v’ that was interrupted only by the loose board shorts he wore. He gave the Alpha a sleepy smile, all but purring when large hands began to apply more sun lotion onto his back.

“You’re cooking, sweetheart.”

“Mm,” Rhys agreed, trying and failing to ignore the urge to arch into the touch. “How did you find me?”

“Tracked your echo-eye’s signature. Don’t worry, I drove myself out. No one knows I’m here.” Jack muttered, the application beginning to turn into something more like a long, deep kneading message. It was slightly irking, that he and Jack had to hide whatever it was that was going on between them. While the threat may have lessened on one side with Jack’s hostile takeover of Hyperion, Atlas would still shoot Rhys in the head – quite merrily in fact – if they so much as suspected that he was spending time with an enemy CEO.

It was annoying and the reason why Rhys had spent most of his nights alone, when he could have been drifting off to the stunning views of Dionysius with a nice, fat knot stuffing him up. They’d fucked when they could, but Rhys hadn’t dared to be as brazen as he had been that first day with the false heat, much to Jack’s obvious irritation. Just how much longer could they reasonably pull this off, Rhys wondered as the Alpha’s skilled hands worked at a rather persistent knot in his lower back, how much longer could he continue to see Jack before it got too dangerous and Rhys was killed? If anything, Jack’s self-promotion had only made it all that much more dangerous for the Omega.

How much longer could Rhys afford to have Jack? And why did it all seem to matter so much?

The Omega rolled onto his back, heart thumping flightily at the uncomfortable questions, and pulled the Alpha down for a heated kiss. He’d already bribed his yacht crew with more money than they could dream of for their silence and so he didn’t stop Jack from pulling his speedo down, his mouth hot and hungry as he wrapped Rhys’ legs around his hips. Rhys meet the kisses with his own fervent presses, hands curling tightly around Jack’s forearms as the Alpha slipped in two fingers.

Rhys gasped, clutching on the invading digits harshly. “Jack…”

“Fuck, baby,” the Alpha groaned as he worked Rhys to a wetness, adding a third finger than a forth as he thrust them in and out, “all I could think of all day was doing this.”

The Omega nodded, fingernails digging into flesh as his head snapped back, mouth open in pleasurable shock as Jack added his thumb, pressing in and _in._ He’d been able to feel the weight of Jack’s eyes all days, the hot want in them so obvious to Rhys it was stunning to think that everyone _didn’t_ know they were fucking. “T-Thinking about misusing tables again, Jack?”

That earned him a laugh, the Alpha folding his hand into a tight fist as he worked it inside it, turning and twisting it, thrusting it every now and then to test the give of Rhys’ insides. The thinner man was undone by it, eyes rolling upwards as he clutched down on what – to his mind – felt like the hardest Alpha knot he’d ever felt. Why more Omegas didn’t do this Rhys couldn’t understand, fisting always felt so good.

“You always look so pretty like this, kitten.” Jack purred, working his fist harder. “Maybe I should keep you. What do you say, Rhysie? Wanna switch back? Become my personal whore?”

“Not a whore,” Rhys gasped, body shuddering as he came in a low, cresting wave of arousal that left him whimpering as he spilled out across his own stomach. He shivered as Jack’s fist carefully withdrew, his hard cock replacing it and driving him almost to oversensitivity. The Alpha curled over him, their bodies hot and sticky with sweat and lotion, sand coating them as their actions sent the carefully placed towels askew.

“Could have fooled me,” the Alpha breathed as he began a slow, lazy pace, “you’re always so wet and ready for me, aren’t ya Rhys? So wet just at the idea of my cock.”

“Jack!” Rhys cried out, hands digging into the sand for purchase and finding none. “Jack, oh – please, just – I need it!”

“I know what you need,” Jack snarled, hips picking up speed, pulling Rhys’ willing body up until they were chest to chest. “You need my knot. You always need it, don’t you? Bet you just sit around dreaming about it. No wonder Tantalus is going to hell.”

“Hey!” Rhys snarled indignantly, biting the Alpha’s neck hard in retaliation for the cruel words. His planet was a sore spot, even with Jack’s dick giving so much pleasure. The Alpha started, laughing, and then his mouth was back, nipping and licking at the bruised mark against his neck. Things degraded from there, the crew politely averting their eyes from where they were busy setting up lunch (except for one young Omega woman, who was watching them rut with wide eyes) and their bodies were slipping and sliding against each other with sweat, Rhys’ hair was flat with it by the time they finally tied.

“You could you know.” Jack said afterwards, a cool beer in one hand while the other stroked over the Omega’s back in a soothing, repetitive pet.

“Hmm?”

“Come work for me.” Rhys stiffened from where he was sprawled over Jack’s chest, tilting his head up to stare at the Hyperion CEO in stunned surprise. Jack was very carefully not looking at him,  studying the pull and give of the waves. “Don’t make it weird.”

“I’m not making it weird!”

“You’re totally making it weird,” Jack said with a snort and a shake of his head. His hand reached out, forcing Rhys’ head back down onto his chest. “It’s just an option. It’s not a big deal.”

“I…yeah.” Rhys finished dumbly. He hesitated for a moment, aware that such an offer was anything but ‘not a big deal’ before relaxing once more against Alpha’s broad form, fingers curling into Jack’s chest hair. “Yeah, options are…good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, things are starting to kind of get somewhere. Up next, the final chapter of Tantalus (but not tge story).


	9. Tantalus, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The call picked up without warning, Jack’s annoyed face flickered to life before him. The Alpha looked pissed, arms crossed over his broad chest and lips drawn in a tight line. “And here I thought you’d lost my number, cupcake. Are you…why are you under a desk?” 
> 
> A hysterical laughing sob escaped him, a loud, uncomfortable sounding thing that Rhys didn’t even bother to hide. He brought both his hands up to his face, pressing the balls of palms into his face hard as he laughed. “I-I live here now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ::waves::
> 
> Hello.
> 
> I'm still alive.

Rhys cursed as he darted down hallways, ducking around corners and trying to keep as low as he could. The sound of battle was all around him, the headquarters that he’d called home for so long – that he’d practically built from the ground up – groaning as explosions shook it. His sole remaining guard, a fierce Alpha-female named Reagan, was cursing up a storm as she covered his retreat. Rhys was clad in his pajamas, a protective armored vest latched haphazardly to his chest, and R&D’s most advanced shield clipped to his belt.

They were losing Tantalus.

The moment Rhys had returned planet side, he’d been able to tell that something was wrong. The Omega had stood on the dock platform, the low hum of the forcefield vibrating above him, and had felt a chill of awareness – a preternatural knowledge that something was _off_ – filling him. But Tantalus was _Rhys’_ damn’t, and he wasn’t going to let a bad feeling scare him off.

He’d found the company board member that had been functioning as the de facto leader in his stead in the main meeting room. The aging Beta’s form had been hunched over a pile of data pads, his face pinched, though his expression lightened considerably when he caught sight of Rhys. He’d all but threw a handful of Echo reports at Rhys and had been off the planet and heading back to the main office before the Omega had even managed to read through half of the first one.

The information had been…not good, to put it lightly.

The situation with Dahl had devolved into something calamitous in the few days he’d been gone; something more resembling a small-scale gorilla war than any type of land dispute, and to be frank – Atlas was _losing._ But Rhys hadn’t been willing to give up without a fight; like hell was he going to be the first Atlas representative to lose a planet. Tantalus may be an overheated, lava covered slice of hell, but they’d have to pry it from his dead, scorched fingers before he gave it up. The problem had been logistics; cold, hard, simple numbers that Rhys couldn’t fight against. Atlas hadn’t wanted anyone to know how bad it was - not the rival companies and most definitely not the investors - and so they’d only sent a handful of their elites to secure their collapsing hold on the planet.

It hadn’t help that something big – something major – was going on with Pandora that apparently required _all_ of the main office’s attention. In the last few weeks Rhys had fought (and lost) to keep himself and his employees from feeling as if their plight mattered as little to the main office as it probably had. Tantalus had always been a hard planet to handle; the living conditions made it expensive, as did the type of mining required to keep the operation out of the red, and their R&D labs hadn’t been making the kind of strides they needed to stay on the good side of anyone who mattered. How could they when they were too busy coming up with new weapons on the fly from re-serviced mining equipment?

Rhys’ military force had dwindled down to almost nothing.

Causalities were high on both sides, but it seemed as if Dahl didn’t give two shits how they appeared to anyone and had just thrown a seemingly never ending line of warm bodies to restock their lines. Rhys hadn’t had that luxury; every spare soldier, mercenary, weapon, and – _fuck it_ – med kit seemed to be being sent to Pandora. Two weeks in and this was it. He was out of everything; ammo, people, robots.

Everything.

Atlas was falling.

The attack came shortly after three in the morning. Rhys still had no idea how they’d managed to get the facility's shields down, but the invasion had been quick and merciless. He’d lost his first guard, Bill, in just trying to get out of his quarters alive. The others had fallen covering his mad sprint to the server hub, and what was left died to give him the time he needed to download the essential files to his echo eye and unleash the heavy magnetic field that erased the servers and the data there. There was little he could do about the physical experiments that remained behind other than blow the base sky high – which Rhys fully intended to do, once he got the fuck out, that was.

But that was looking less and less likely. Rhys could activate the self-destruct remotely from his palm computer if he had to, but the Omega would really, really prefer he wasn’t still in the place when he did so. Reagan let out a pained shout and Rhys stumbled, spinning into a crouch as he watched his last guard lean heavily against the wall, breathing harshly as blood slid sluggishly down her side.

“…don’t pay me enough for this shit,” Reagan groaned, lobbing an incendiary grenade hard over her shoulder before launching herself at Rhys, covering the Omega’s body with her armor clad one as the hallway erupted into flames. The smell of burning hair and flesh was everywhere and Rhys fought the urge to vomit, a hand pressed against his nose and mouth as he is eyes watered. “Better make a run for it, boss.” Reagan said, breath shallow and raspy, her hands shaking as she pulled her assault rifle off her back and extended it to full length. “My wife better get a hell of a bonus for this.”

“She will,” Rhys promised, ignoring the churning guilt as he backed away from the Alpha, eyes flickering over her shoulder at the Dahl Commandos that were advancing through the smoking wreckage of the hallway. “I swear, she’ll be set for life. Like TV show rich.”

Reagan snorted, cracking her neck, her palm brushing over her shield and it activated over her like a shimmering blue veil, brown eyes queerly calm. “I’d run if I was you, Mr. Summerset.”

Rhys didn’t have to be told twice. He sprinted down the hallway, wincing when he heard the sound of rapid gunfire behind him. He flew around a corner, only to throw himself into a nearby office when he nearly came face to face with another group of Commandos. Rhys cursed, fingers flying across the door commands as he forced it into emergency lock down. He swung around and let out a frustrated whimper when he realized he’d just managed to lock himself into a single-exit room.

Rhys cursed, eyes flying around for some place – any place – to hide or a way to escape. But there was nothing. For a moment the Omega stood stock still, eyes wide, mouth moving soundlessly in fear before his shoulders slumped in defeat. He could hear shouts from behind him, the sounds of Reagan’s last stand, and he squeezed his eyes shut, wincing as an explosion rattled the room he was in. When silence followed it he crawled under a nearby workstation, cradling his head in his hands.

It was over.

Rhys had lost, he was going to fucking _die._ The Omega blinked past bitter tears, anger and self-pity and fear an ugly swirl in his breast, and flicked open his palm computer. He was shaking so bad he could barely sit up, yet somehow his fingers were deathly steady as he pulled up the self-destruct program. He hesitated before he activated it though, blinking hard against the wetness of his eyes.

After a moment his finger slid past the activation button and minimized the window. He pulled up his Echo-com, typing in the command before he could doubt himself. Rhys didn’t even know if Jack would take the call. Things hadn’t been good between them for the last few weeks and that was Rhys’ own fault. The Omega had taken to avoiding Jack’s calls like the plague, and being the prideful thing that he was, Jack had only tolerated a few days of that nonsense before he’d stopped calling completely

It hadn’t been that Rhys hadn’t wanted to talk to the Alpha, in fact if the Omega was painfully honest he missed Jack a hell of a lot more than he was willing to admit. It was just…Rhys hadn’t want Jack to know how badly Rhys had fucked up, how quickly he was losing his planet. He didn’t want Jack to see him like this, desperate and backed into a corner. Not when Jack was…well, when Jack was _Jack._

Rhys swallowed hard as the call rang on, the sound of movement behind the locked door growing louder and more rhythmic. They were searching the office next door; Rhys didn’t have long. He’d have to start the sequence soon. And while Rhys didn’t want to die, he didn’t want Dahl to win more. But he wanted…wanted to see the Alpha one last time…just…one last time.

The call picked up without warning, Jack’s annoyed face flickered to life before him. The Alpha looked _pissed,_ arms crossed over his broad chest and lips drawn in a tight line. “And here I thought you’d lost my number, cupcake. Are you…why are you under a desk?”  

A hysterical laughing sob escaped him, a loud, uncomfortable sounding thing that Rhys didn’t even bother to hide. He brought both his hands up to his face, pressing the balls of palms into his face hard as he laughed. “I-I live here now.”

He laughed harder, tears rolling down his cheeks and gathering wetly around his hands. Jack’s expression changed rapidly, moving from angry to something that hinted at concerned. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I’m – I’m…” The Omega struggled to find the right words, curling both hands around his head as he drew his knees up to his chest. “I-I’m so sorry I didn’t call. I didn’t want to ignore you, just everything was going to shit so fast and I didn’t know what to do and – oh god, they’re coming. I can hear them, they’re coming so soon and I have to-

“Rhys.”

“I have to – I have to do it. I can’t let them – but I really, really don’t wanna do it. But I have to, Jack, and I–”

 _“Rhys,”_ Jack snarled, “shut the hell up.”  The sound was so vicious Rhys’ mouth snapped shut mid-sentence, silencing his hysterical ramblings and he stared at the holo-image, eyes wide. “Take a breath – good boy. Now, what the fuck is going on?”

Rhys ran a shaking hand through his hair, wincing when he banged the back of it against the low desk. He blinked hard, sending fresh tears tumbling down his cheeks. “I’ve lost Tantalus, Jack.”

There was a tense silence, then; “How bad is it?”

“Dahl’s overrun the base. I didn’t have enough men; the main office wasn’t willing to expend more capital on ‘unreasonably bad odds.” Rhys said bitterly. “They left me, Jack. I can’t get out.”

“That’s bullshit. There’s always a way out.”

Rhys laughed humorlessly. “I don’t think so, Jack. I’m locked in an office, behind a glass door, with at least nine Dahl Commando squads between me and my ride out of here. I…I’m not getting out of here.”

“Rhys–”

“I can blow the facility from here,” it was odd, but somehow explaining this all to Jack made it seem less scary and Rhys could feel himself rallying, shoulders squaring with determination. “I won’t let Dahl win, I can’t let them win.”

“Blow the – don’t be stupid.” Jack’s voice was harsh, strained, and even through the blue-tones and electric blur of the Echo-net, Rhys could see the frustration that lined the Alpha’s face. Jack gripped the edge of his desk tightly, leaning close to the camera, his expression tight and angry.

“I have to,” Rhys said quietly, eyes flickering over the Alpha’s form, greedily taking in every inch of him. There was more that he'd like to say, but movement caught his eye and Rhys swallowed harshly as a shadow appeared behind the frosted office door. “They’ve found me. It won’t be long now.”

There was a sharp intake of breath and suddenly Jack’s arm was flying out, sending the contents of his desk flying everywhere. “You fucking coward,” the Alpha snarled, “you’re just going to sit there quietly and _die?”_

“What other choice do I have?”

“You could have _fucking come here!”_ Jack shouted, the veins in his neck popping as his hands flew out and gestured wildly around him. “I gave you every opportunity – I practically gift wrapped it for you on Dionysius. A sweet job, a fat paycheck, my goddamn cock every damn day and what the hell do you chose? You choose _Atlas,”_ the company’s name was spat out, Jack’s eyes wild and feral, “you choose to go back to Tantalus and die, _you stupid jackass.”_

The words were cruel, unreasonably cruel considering what was about to happen and Rhys took a shaky breath at them, curling tighter around himself. This wasn't what he wanted when he called Jack. This wasn't even...this wasn't anything like what he wanted. His eyes left the angry form, widening as they took in the shadow figure's movements. “Jack…” Rhys whimpered, pushing back against the desk back, quivering. “…the door…”

It was like a switch had been thrown. Suddenly Jack’s face was magnified, his hands gripping his echo-com’s floating camera with both hands, the metal creaking loudly, his voice deadly calm. “Rhysie, baby, do you have a gun – or anything?”

Rhys shook his head, whining lowly. “I should,” the Omega swallowed, “I should go. You…you won’t want to see this.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Jack seethed, lips pulled back in a full snarl. “Look around you, Rhys. Get out from under the damn desk and find yourself something to fight with.”

“I-”

 _“Now,_ Rhys.”

The Omega stumbled out, eyes flashing around as he searched for something he could use. His eyes locked onto a free standing lamp and he darted forward, picking it up just as the door slid open. He launched forward with the lamp, intent on bashing the Alpha who’d entered face with it, but a meaty hand caught his uncoordinated blow easily. But the Alpha didn’t attack, in fact he didn't make any movements at all, and Rhys blinked in surprise, the fight leaving him all at once as he took in familiar grey eyes set in an equally familiar face.

The Alpha's lips twisted up in a faint grin. “Hey, Rhys.”

“…Axton?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eh. I dunno. I feel insecure about this chapter, it fought me a bit.


	10. Tantalus, Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Oy!” A voice barked sharply and both men jumped, Rhys craning his head back to stare at a livid, blue-cast Jack. “Sorry to interrupt,” and oh dear, that wasn’t good. Jack’s voice was positively glacial, “but if you two could stop making goddamn googolly eyes at each other for five frickin' seconds - well, that'd be just great. Swell. Fantastic. This call is long distance, kiddos.”
> 
> “Uh.” Axton said eloquently, “is that Handsome Jack?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Un-betaed, written on my phone out necessity. Sorry for the wait. Enjoy!

Rhys had never been so happy to see someone in his entire life. Axton’s handsome face was covered in soot from the burning base and blood from a cut above his cheekbone, making his green eyes startling bright. He was clad in the khaki and green of a Dahl elite, and he had a new body modification - a sergeant’s chevron and stripes. His turtle gloves felt hard and scaly on Rhys’ wrist and the feel of the scratchy Kevlar was the only thing keeping the Omega from thinking he was hallucinating. 

“Axton?” Rhys repeated, voice wavering.

The Alpha’s lips twitched up in a half-smile, eyes softening slightly as they stared down at him. He’d almost forgotten how scary tall Axton was compared to himself; not quite the towering height of Jack, but enough to make Rhys (who was no shorty himself) feel dwarfed.

“Heya, Rhys.” Axton said, his voice soft. “You have any idea how hard you are to get a hold of, babe?”

Rhys let out a choked laugh, blinking against fresh tears. “Sorry?” More tears started, and more laughter, until Rhys was almost choking on it. Big arms pulled him against a broad chest, Axton’s bloody face smearing across his cheek in an affectionate nuzzle.

“Hey, hey, little man. None of that. Come on, its okay.” Axton cooed, his free hand rising to pet the back of Rhys’ hair. “Come on, Rhys, don’t cry. I’m gonna get you out, okay? I ain’t gonna let anything happen to you.”

“O-Okay,” Rhys quivered, hands fisting against the big Alpha’s Kelvar vest, pulling back just enough to stare up at the very welcome, very handsome face, “oh god. Oh _god,_ Axton. I – I thought I was going to...fucking you was the best thing I’ve ever done.”

Axton chuckled, eyes softening even more, a large thumb coming up to stroke his jaw tenderly. “There we go, there’s that little smartass I know.”

“Oy!” A voice barked sharply and both men jumped, Rhys craning his head back to stare at a livid, blue-cast Jack. “Sorry to interrupt,” and oh dear, that wasn’t good. Jack’s voice was positively _glacial,_ “but if you two could stop making _goddamn_ googolly eyes at each other for five _frickin'_ seconds _-_ well, that'd be just great. Swell. Fantastic. This call is long distance, kiddos.”

“Uh.” Axton said eloquently, “is that Handsome Jack?”

Rhys chuckled nervously. “Yeah, I kind of called him? Like a Hail-Mary thing?”

Axton stared at him like he had grown a second head. “You know Handsome Jack?”

“Intimately.” Jack said, voice flat, and Rhys winced.

“Uh, Jack. This is Axton. He’s, um, an old friend.”

Axton looked amused, obliviously not sensing the pure _threat_ that was somehow emanating from Jack, even across the echo-com. “Is that what we’re calling it now?”

“Shut up,” Rhys hissed, eyes narrowing as he willed Axton to get a clue, “or I’ll tell Vaughn about that ‘all-Alpha’ Aphrodite trip.” Axton’s mouth snapped shut with an audible ‘click,’ the grin faltering. Rhys detangled himself from the Alpha, licking his lips nervously. “As great as it is to see you, please tell me you have a way the hell out of here?”

Jack snorted in disdain. “Finally remember where you are, cupcake? Thought you were gonna just mount him-”

“Jack!”

“-burning base be damned." Jack finished, the projected figure crossing his arms in annoyance. “What? Only calling it like I see it, sweetheart.”

“Jack, it’s not like-”

“Whatever.” The Alpha said with another snort, one thumb jerking out in a point towards the smoking and burning hallway behind them. “You know, you two might wanna, I don’t know – _flee._ You make it out alive, drop me a line.”

Rhys stared, mouth working soundlessly as the feed cut out. Was…Jack…jealous? He barely had a chance to process the thought when he was being yanked out into the hallway, a shotgun being shoved into his arms.

“Dude’s right,” Axton said grimly, popping a new clip into his assault rifle, “we should have evac’d like ten minutes ago. Stay close to me and use that if someone that ain’t meso much as looks at you wrong.”

“Thank you for this,” Rhys said softly, hugging the shotgun close, “I won’t forget this, Axton. I swear.”

“Ain’t nothing, little man. Vaughn would never talk to me again if I let you die here.” The Alpha gave him a roguish grin, firing seemingly at random over his shoulder, sending an approaching Dahl soldier into a bloody pile. “Might need a new job after this, though. Ah, fuck it. I never liked Dahl anyway, the pricks.”

Rhys laughed, giddy, and promised a job - hell, all the jobs - and stuck as close to the blond as he safely could. There were piles of dead Dahl commandos everywhere and Rhys let out a whistle of appreciation at the realization that Axton had mostly likely killed them all himself. They’d barely made it a hallway or two when Axton cursed, shoving Rhys roughly behind a decorative wall.

 _“Stay.”_ He said with a snarl, eyes flashing eerily as he swung around, seemingly fearless, to let out a barrage of bullets and lodged a grenade at the same moment.

“Not a dog.” Rhys grumbled, even as he huddled down as far as he could. A Dahl soldier peeked around the corner behind him and Rhys cursed, flipping the safety off his weapon and unloading _way_ too many rounds at him.

Axton laughed, a bloody – _ew_ – glove coming over to ruffle his hair. “Good shot, babe. May make it out of here alive after all. Which is good,” the Alpha sent him a wink as he lobbed another grenade, “considering I have a heat week waiting for me. And you know, Vaughn’s been doing these tightening exercises.”

The Alpha face took a wondrous, distant quality and Rhys shouted in alarm, throwing himself forward and knocking Axton out of the way of a shotgun blast. “Stop thinking with your dick!”

“Whoops, sorry.” Axton said, cackling as he blew through another clip.

“Are you _enjoying this you feakin’ sociopath?”_ Rhys screeched, barely managing to avoid throwing himself off balance as he covered their back, the shotgun’s kick back so strong it nearly tore itself from his hands.

Axton gave him an incredulous look. “Well…yeah.”

“Fucking Alphas!” Rhys swore as they ducked around the wall and sprinted hard towards the opposite area.

“Oh shit!” He was roughly pulled back. “Uh, flamethrower. Hate those things. Stay here for a minute, little man.”

“Axton, no! Don’t just run in – you dumb, motherfucker.” Rhys finished, hunkering down behind a potted plant as he winced at the sound of blood curdling screams. After this, he was going to fucking retire. Find a nice, quite little cottage in the core worlds and never leave and _oh my god_ why didn’t he just become a dentist or something? Dentists didn’t get shot at. Well, not on the core worlds.

Yeah, totally becoming a dentist.

Career change confirmed.

Rhys shrieked when Axton’s blond head suddenly popped into view, looking slightly more singed than normal but grinning, everyone of his white, sharp looking teeth on display. “Dude, Rhys, you should have seen it. Guy’s head popped like a pimple. Man, me and the Mrs. haven’t had this much fun in a loooooong time.”

It took him a moment, trailing behind Axton at a dead sprint, for the Omega to realize that Axton was talking about his assault rifle. _Alphas,_ Rhys thought almost desperately, _nuts. All of them._ They were actually making good time though. Axton was unstoppable, like the embodiment of death, and Rhys couldn’t help but take a moment to compare the odd sight of the self-assured, killing machine that was Axton Rand in the field and the quiet, shy, stuttering, gentle oaf that he’d shared his best friend’s heat with.

“Come on!” Axton snarled, ramming his combat knife into a Commando’s neck, “come on, fuckers. Fuckin’ pussies!”

Absolute bonkers, Rhys mused, awed, as Axton shot one Commando up at the same moment his other hand threw the knife with deadly accuracy, splitting through an armored helmet to embed itself deep enough that only the grip could be seen. Axton swung around, physically throwing a woman away hard enough that she landed with a crunch and didn’t get up, a violent grin on his face. He was covered in blood, not a space of him free of it. _To think,_ Rhys thought faintly, slightly nauseous, _that insanity’s_ knotted _me._

Axton’s smile faltered the moment his eyes locked on him. Suddenly he was launching forward, big hands outstretched. **_“Rhys!”_**

Rhys blinked in alarm – and then there was only pain. Rhys shrieked, the sound loud and horrible, an Omega scream in its truest sense, and a good portion of the Commandos that were charging them stopped dead, some even taking a knee. Axton only flinched, a full body shake, still moving forward. Everything seemed like in slow motion. Axton flying towards him, the Beta Commandos raising their weapons to cover their Alpha fellows, the slow turn of Rhys’ head to stare at his right arm.

Or rather where is right arm used to be.

Now there was just the severed and burnt flesh of his shoulder joint, the remains of his shoulder cut at a strangely precise angle. Rhys blinked, unable to process what he was seeing, feeling vomit rise quickly at the scent of burnt flesh – and then there was a sudden impact on his front as Axton knocked him out of the way of a bright, pink beam of light.

A laser, some part of Rhys mind registered. A laser. It must have cut off his arm. A laser, that is. The laser cut off his arm. His right arm, which is why it was gone. Because it was a laser. And it hit his arm. And cut it off. Which is why it wasn’t there anymore.

His arm, that was.

Axton was shouting at him, firing randomly as he maneuvered them out of the deathtrap of a hallway, but Rhys barely noticed. He let himself be carried awkwardly, feet dragging limp across the tile floor, supported only by a crude grip around his chest. That was rude. He was an Omega. He was graceful. Classy. He shouldn’t be held like that.

Rhys blinked once, the pupil of his natural eye dialiating until he could only see blurry shapes. But his echo eye stayed true, showing him the misshaped stump where his right arm used to be. His right arm. Which he definitely had. But the laser. Yeah. The laser. Dahl was famous for that gun. Could only be fire liked twice every five minutes. Too expensive for such a low output. Never understood why it was so popular.

Must because how well it took his arm away.

Rhys’ breathing was getting harder and harder, like he was trying to breath through a straw, and there was this ringing in his ears. God it was annoying. Ringing. Ringing. Ringing.

He shuddered, once, barely registering as he was swung up into a proper hold, Axton’s fearful face shouting at him.

Ringing.

God.

He hated it.

The ringing, not laser.

No. Wait.

He hated the laser too.

Because of his arm.

And...

And...

* * *

Rhys woke with a strangled scream, hands clawing out viciously to attack nothing. The sight of two hands, striking at air, brought him to a standstill. Because Rhys didn’t have two hands. Not anymore. But there they were. But _that,_ that was most certainly not the hand he’d been born with. Slowly, Rhys brought the shiny, polished gold closer to stare at it. He blinked, but the robotic arm was still there. He let it fall to his lap, hand opening and closing, as he looked around him.

After a moment he let out a deep breath of relief, collapsing backwards onto his pillows. He was in a hospital room, one done in the golden yellow, silvers, and black of Hyperion. Jack. Jack had come for him.

He was alive then. Rhys let his eyes close, swallowing around thick throat. Alive. How the hell had Axton got them out of there? How had Jack gotten to them in time? The Omega let out a weary groan, pushing himself back up into a sitting position. Axton, where was he? The last thing Jack had seen, he'd thought – what if the violent Alpha had hurt his friend? He owed Axton so much and Vaughn was like, so in love with him. It would just break his bro's heart if Jack killed him.

Rhys shuddered once he swung his feet over the edge, intent on finding answers. God, he was so sore. Everything hurt in a way that Rhys hadn’t thought was possible, and he’d had a giant two hundred and some change Alpha crush him in a complete armor set once. Surprisingly his new arm didn’t hurt that much at all, but his shoulders and neck were killing him, like he’d strained them somehow. He rubbed at his neck, rolling his head back and forward to try and relieve the tension. His fingers encountered a swollen and tender patch of skin.

The impression of teeth.

Within a moment Rhys was across the room and at the small vanity, staring at his reflection with a wide eyes. But no. He wasn’t mistaken. There, just in the juncture of where his shoulder met his neck, just under his lymph node, was a bonding bite.

_I’m going to fucking kill him._

For a moment all Rhys could think or feel was rage; a blinding white rage that overtook everything. How could Axton do this to him? How could he do it to _Vaughn?_ Sure, sometimes Alpha’s couldn’t control the urge to mark, especially when an Omega they’d been intimate with or felt strongly for was injured, but this was – this was – _inexcusable._

“I’m gonna rip his dick out his mouth.” Rhys growled, feeling the hair on the back of his neck stand up, anger swelling and swelling in him until he felt like he was going to burst.

“Damn, pumpkin. Awake less than a minute and already bitching.”

Rhys spun about, mouth open in shock at the sight of Jack in the open doorway, leaning against the frame. He pointed frantically at his neck, his ears and cheeks hot as he felt them turn a furious shade of maroon. “Axton fucking marked me, the prick!”

Suddenly the smug grin was gone from Jack’s face, his expression diamond-hard in a split of a second. “That d-bag doesn’t have the jimmies to bond anyone, princess, much less when they’re asleep.”

All at once, it clicked and he stared at Jack aghast. “Did you…did you _bond me when I was asleep?”_

“Well, honeybun, as we've seen from the whole 'Dionysius debacle,' you can't be trusted to handle big decisions on you're own." 

“What…how… _when I was asleep?_ You bonded me when I was asleep?"

"Think very carefully about your next words, Rhysie.” Jack said, voice a low, dangerous caress, "my feelings are starting to get a little hurt."

Rhys still couldn’t – he just – why would Jack…he was torn between utterly horrified by the idea that he’d missed his own bonding and completely overtaken by a bubbling excitement that his _Handsome_ had claimed him. But not a part of him felt regret or angry at actually being  claimed. All things considered, it could be worse; he could be dead. And he couldn’t deny he cared for Jack, not after those last few moments under that desk, when Rhys thought he was going to die and all he’d wanted was Jack.

But…

In his sleep!

He sputtered uselessly for a few moments.

Jack sauntered across the small space between them, the moves so close to slither that is was unreal to witness, and Rhys only had a moment to grasp before a hand was fisting roughly in his hair, yanking his head back as mismatched eyes burned down at him. “Wanna tell me why you mistook my pretty, pretty imprint for someone else's? I knew I should of shot that dumbass instead of letting your freaky little dwarf friend sneak off with him.”

Rhys went obediently still, overly aware that he had to pick his next words very carefully indeed, even after he mind bemusedly went over the words ‘dwarf friend.’ At least Axton was alive. For now.

 “I didn’t. I mean, if I’d had a moment to think – Axton and I, we shared a heat. Once!” He clarified quickly, back tracking rapidly when Jack’s lips pulled up into a fierce snarl, “long before I meet you again.” Jack’s grip tightened, the other falling down to thumb at an impressive pistol at his hip. “Jack! I didn't know I'd ever see you again back then. We never did it again. H-He’s practically mated to my best friend!”

“Still doesn’t explain why you thought he bit you, you ungrateful little shit. After everything I’ve done – sent my own mercs in to pull you and blondie from hostile space, gave you that sweet arm.” The hand in his hair tugged so hard that Rhys felt his eyes tear up, fighting the urge to try and pry Jack’s hands free and instead kept both hands limp by his side in supplication. "Gave you my teeth. You know how many Omegas on this space station would kill to be in your place right now? And don't forget the Betas. Jackie's a popular boy around here."

“Jack, _Alpha_ , please.” He whimpered, shivering. “I didn’t know what was happening. I just woke up and I was here, and the last thing I remembered, I was stuck on Tantalus and I thought I was gonna – and m-my a-arm w-was…” Rhys’ pleading trailed off as his breath started to hitch, words stumbling over each other, “g-gon-ne. And I thought, I thought I was gonna die. And never see – and I j-just wanted y-you.”

Jack’s expression flipped, going from enraged to soft all at once. The Omega shuddered when he was tugged forward into a fierce embrace, thrown by it. Jack seemed more…unhinged, then he used to be, but Rhys pushed that thought away. He snuggled into the hold, burrowing into Jack’s shoulder, taking in deep inhales of the familiar Alpha-scent.

“I didn’t think you’d…not when I was _asleep,_ Jack. Come on, cut me some slack.” He muttered after a moment, managing to put some of his usual attitude into it. He nuzzled the shoulder, pressing a kiss against the clothed skin. “You can’t tell me you don’t know that I’m…that I…” He paused, still not comfortable voicing those words. Then quieter, “all my firsts are yours, right Handsome? Of course those are your teeth.”

There was a low rumble of agreement and Rhys sighed, feeling the tension slowly leave him as his head was tilted back, Jack’s face a study of pleased possessiveness. “You’ve been mine since you were seventeen, kiddo. You just took your sweet time getting with the program, idiot.”

“Hey! That’s-” The rest of his complaint was captured by a devouring mouth. The Omega groaned into the contact, looping both his arms around Jack’s neck as the kiss deepened. When they finally broke away, Rhys was breathless for a completely different reason and Jack’s erection was a firebrand against his hip. “So…that job still open?”

“Dunno, gotta check with my HR.”

Rhys huffed, annoyed, pulling away slightly. “Jack-”

The Alpha exhaled roughly through his nose, rolling his eyes. “Fine. Whatever.”

“Vice President?”

“Vice…” Jack laughed, the sound full throated and loud, booming across the small space. “You gotta suck a lot of cock to get that kind of job, Rhysie.”

Rhys dropped to his knees without another word, preening at the slight widening of Jack’s eyes. Catching his (his!) Alpha off guard was hard, but _so_ sweet when he could pull it off. He stroked over Jack’s growing bulge with his new, shiny hand, dragging his tongue over his bottom lip. He flicked his gaze up, watching Jack from underneath his lashes.

"I think you’ll find,” Rhys said sweetly, leaning in to nuzzle Jack’s erection, “that I’m a _dedicated_ worker, boss.”

Jack shot him a sharp grin. “You see? This? This I like. Finally, a little gratitude, a little respect.” He unbuttoned his pants with his thumb, flicking the zipper down. “There we go, pumpkin. Knock yourself out.”

Rhys leaned forward, a part of him giddy with disbelief at how quickly everything seemed to be moving. At least it seemed that way to him. One moment, the Omega had been sure he was going to die on the burning trash hole of a planet with his best friend’s lover, and the next he was waking up, with a new toy for an arm and a mating bite on his neck. He bathed Jack’s dick with kitten licks, focusing on the tiny slit and sensitive head, being sure to let out soft sighs and sounds of contentment as he worked.

He put every blow job skill he learned in college to work, taking Jack to the edge only to bring him back down until the Alpha was snarling, a hand fisted warningly in his hair. But Rhys didn’t want to pull away. He _really_ wanted that Vice President job seeing how he was most decidedly job seeking at the moment. And, well, he was grateful for everything Jack did; the Alpha had saved him and all. And yeah, bond bite was a little…unconventional, but then again they _had_ first met in a whore house. He hummed, swallowing around the large organ, pulling back only to dive back down, fucking his throat on Jack’s dick.

“Ah, kiddo. You’re so good at this, sweet thing, you were born to suck my cock. Hell yeah, just like that, baby, take it deep, choke on it you filthy little whore-”

Rhys felt his eyebrow twitch in annoyance because – again – not a whore, and doubled down on his efforts. He swallowed Jack as deeply as he could, the fingers of his golden hand slipping back, pushing (probably with far too much force, but hey, Rhys was still learning his new strength) into the soft, tender spot behind Jack’s balls, his pinky just flirting at the Alpha’s opening, pushing fingernail deep – and Jack bellowed, hunching over, curled around Rhys' head, hands tight around his neck in a bruising grip as he came.

When it was over Jack stumbled backwards, collapsing in a pile just before the bed. Rhys crawled over top of him, wiggling out of his hospital pants along the way. Jack was seemingly out of it, eyes closed mid orgasm and Rhys snickered under his breath as he brought the still hard cock and pulsing knot in line with his hole. He plunged down, eyes rolling up into his head as his own slick and Jack’s coming cock wet the way for him. Jack let out a visceral growl, jack knifing up and slamming them both into a sitting position, hands digging into Rhys hips, his teeth latching hard into the untorn side of Rhys’ neck as the Omega took Jack whole – swollen knot and all.

Rhys shuddered at the pleasured pain of forcing the flared muscle into place, feeling his ass close hard around it, his neck stinging from the second bite. Jack was coming again - or maybe he'd never stopped and Rhys had just prolonged it, and the Alpha was drawn tight beneath him. The Omega came almost at once as well, just from that wonderful full feeling, and Rhys had hardly been aware he was even hard before it hit him. He let out a content sigh when Jack finally relaxed, snuggling into the Alpha’s heaving chest.

“…Jack?”

“Yeah.”

Jack sounded distant, almost high, and Rhys hid a pleased grin as he pressed fleeting kisses into his Alpha’s jaw. “So. About that VP job-”

“Fuuuuuuck, you’re annoying.”

“Well, I was just thinking-”

 _“Fine._ VP, benefits on day one, big office, free lunches. Yadayadayada.” Jack made a flopping motion with his hand before letting it fall limp against Rhys’ back. “You’re ass is just – my fucking _favorite_ , cupcake.”

Rhys nipped affectionately at Jack’s jaw. “It's pretty found of you, too.” He squeezed down hard, his inner muscles locking down on the Alpha’s blown knot and making him choke out something inelegantly. “…Jack?”

“Oh my god, _what?_ ”

“About Axton-”

A blue eye opened a sliver to glare at him. “Seriously? My knot is in your ass and you’re asking about Ass-ton?”

“Well, I mean, he did save my life-”

“I’m gonna have to start gagging you.”

“- and I did kind of promise him a job.”

“Okay, fine. Sure, why the hell not you high-maintenance little shit. Now, _shush,_  you're harshing my afterglow."

Rhys smirked but complied now that he was confident he’d secured Axton’s safety and his best bro’s future happiness, fingers finding their way between Jack’s shirt buttons to swirl around his greying chest hair. “Rhys Summerset,” he murmured quietly, ignoring the annoyed groan of _“Do you_ ever _shut up?”_ from his Alpha, “VP of Hyperion.”

Not bad, all things considering. After all, a title was still a title, and a VP was still a VP.

“You got your name wrong, dipshit.”

Rhys stilled for a moment before hiding a stupidly large smile in Jack’s shirt. “Rhys _Connell”,_ he corrected to himself, voice muffled by the fabric. “VP of Hyperion.”

Another dramatic groan.

“Definitely buying a gag. A ball gag. In every color.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One chappie left, and that's Helios. :)


	11. Helios

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Rhys? Baby, what the hell is happening?”
> 
> “J-Jacqueline, a laser – oh. Oh. Um.” Rhys held his hands up slowly, eyes wide, “please don’t shot?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here it is, folks. The end. Thank you all so much for coming on this journey with me, for being patient when RL took away my writing time and made the space between chapters go on for a bit longer than anyone liked. I hope this chapter - I hope this entire story - has been up to your standards. Your kudos, comments, and views have often been the only bright spot in my hectic, hectic life, and I cannot express how thankful I am and how much I have valued all of your input and readership.
> 
> Much Love.
> 
> Rhiw

Life at Hyperion was interesting, to say the least. It turns out all that bragging about the quality of Helios was much deserved; the space station was one of a kind. Huge and built in the sweeping, reaching shape of an ‘H,’ everything in Helios was slick and shiny, modern and simplistic, yet almost grandiose and gaudy all at the same time. Rhys absolutely loved it, even the Hall to Heroism (which was basically just one giant circle jerk for Jack’s ego).

He loved the smooth lines and the artificial glow and soft neons that lit the space station. He loved the huge park they’d just opened in the main rec area, loved the atmosphere controls that shifted from Spring to Summer to Fall (but never Winter, Jack hated Winter) at the CEO’s whim. He loved the sprawling floors of R&D, the coding and development department that had its own _wing._ He loved his office (large, only slightly less over-the-top than Jack’s) that had a breath-taking view of the station’s insides one side, Elpis on the other, and the bathroom had an epic view of Pandora that Rhys could observe while he took care of business.

But most of all, Rhys loved the way people looked at him here.

Sure, okay. Most of it, at least in the beginning, had been because of his relationship with Jack. Because his last name was ‘Connell’ and he walked around with the vicious Alpha’s mating mark on his neck. But as the year had progressed, Rhys had done everything he could – working overtime on top of overtime – to show his new underlings just what he brought to the table. Which was, frankly, a lot. R&D’s programming and coding department was running more efficient than ever, and they had been able to make some of Rhys’ more advanced (Vaughn often called them outlandish) ideas come to life. Within sixteen months, Rhys had single handedly bumped Hyperion’s stocks up by .89%. Just him, just Rhys.

And those that thought his still somewhat present Promethean accent or his Omega status meant that he could be manipulated found out quick enough that to underestimate Rhys meant political and career suicide – if not a quick trip out an airlock if Jack caught wind of it. The very first time Jack had killed someone for speaking ill of Rhys, he ridden the Alpha until he’d nearly broken them both, wetter than he’d ever been in his life.

The Alpha in question had sneered something at one of Rhys’ orders, just the normal disrespectful, chauvinist shit Rhys had always dealt with in his life _(can’t believe I’m taking orders from some pussy-boy…only got his job cause of his pretty mouth, like to see him makes these numbers without spreading his leg – awk!)._ Rhys hadn’t paid the whispered rant any attention, really, he’d made his point. The numbers would go up or the woman would lose her job. Jack had just been passing by, a flock of advisors around him trying to brief him as the man undoubtedly played one of those mobile games he was addicted to on his echo com, when the Alpha had overheard.

He’d stopped dead in his tracks, head snapping over to stare at the upset Alpha, and Rhys had barely registered his presence before the gunshot had gone off. Jack had rolled his eyes at the Omega’s stunned expression, nudging at the body with his boot toe. _“Someone take the trash out before it starts to smell. Rhysie, sweetie-pie, when they talk to you like that, you use that cute little piece I gave you for your birthday, yeah? Spare the rod and all the crap."_

And then he’d walked on, leaving Rhys staring after him, hot and bothered. He’d taken Jack up on his advice. Things were done differently at Hyperion and it only took a handful of murders (and if Rhys had his security team do it instead of himself, so what?) before the back talk stopped all together. Now, when he walked down the hallways only respectful silence greeted him when before sneers and barely hidden looks of dislike where thrown at him.

It was quite telling really, a true reflection of their relationship, that it was the night he had rewarded Jack for killing someone unprovoked for him that Rhys had managed the near impossible; he’d proven to be the 1% of Omegas that managed to fall pregnant outside of a heat. He was nearly nine months along now, his stomach so distended with their baby that it was a strain to walk. Rhys had been assured that most of it was just water weight, that the baby wasn’t overly big or anything, but it was still an exhausting experience.

It was made even more so by Jack’s hovering. Like everything the Alpha did in life, his reaction to Rhys’ pregnancy had been as over-the-top as it could have been. In addition to the two normal bodyguards he had (Axton as his lead – though Jack had only allowed him on the team once Vaughn was marked and pregnant, which had happened like the next day Axton had come to Helios – and a nice young Alpha by the name of Jacqueline, which Rhys was _convinced_ Jack had hired mainly because of her name) Rhys’ entourage had gained three Loaderbots, including one who occasionally called himself Jimmy. Rhys had not reported this, Jack was rather…annoyed by Loaderbots that had become somewhat sentient and despite his eccentricates, Jimmy had kind of grown on him. And Wilhelm had taken over as lead.

Wilhelm was usually the sole bodyguard Jack tolerated and it made Rhys uncomfortable to think of his mate without any protection. He knew better than to mention it, or to complain about any of the fussing Jack did, as it would only cause a fight and nothing really would change. Wil was a fine enough man, a little gruff and a bit bitchy, and he and Axton butted head more often than not, but it was usually so entertaining Rhys couldn’t bring himself to care too much. Rhys was on his way to a new fundraising meeting (they were looking at expanding into a new planet-sphere), hands running soothingly over his swollen stomach as he walked and listening to Axton and Wil snipe at each other when an alarm went off – loudly. Rhys stilled in concern, hands splaying wide to protect his belly even as his guards formed an instant protective bubble around him, the three Loaderbots huge frames forming a literal metal wall around them.

Wil looked down at his echo unit, a thunderous frown on his face.

“What?” Rhys demanded, his concern ratcheting up. “What is it? Is Jack alright?”

“Looks like it some kind of coup,” Axton said softly, his hand coming out to rub at Rhys’ tense neck as he read through the information, “…what do you think, Wil?”

“This has got Dahl’s fingerprints all over it,” the burly man said sharply, “I need to get to Jack.”

“Go.” Rhys ordered without hesitation, “take Axton, too. Jacqueline and the bots can get me to the safe room easy enough.”

The two Alphas exchanged an annoyingly knowing look. “Rhys-”

“Don’t argue with me, Ax. I’m still your superior.” The Omega snapped, eyes narrowed. “The nearest panic room is not even five minutes away; trust me, I know, Jack made me memorize all their locations. If it wasn’t bad, Wilhelm would never have even said anything. Go secure my mate; if he gives you shit tell him I have zero intention of raising his spawn alone.”

Wil and Axton hesitated a moment longer, before nodding. They insisted on accompanying him to the safe room and locking him inside before leaving, though. The moment he sat down on the plush and comfortable chair, Jacqueline standing at attention in front of the door, her automatic turret gun at the ready, Rhys called Vaughn.

His friend answered halfway through the first ring. “Rhys, bro, you safe?”

“In one of the panic rooms. What about you and Holden?”

The other Omega gave him a weak smile, but shifted to show where the infant was tucked protectively by his side. The tiny Alpha was sleeping easily, his shock of blond hair mostly hidden by the Loaderbot hat he had on. “We’re fine. We were home when it happened and you know Axton’s got the apartment locked down like crazy. I always thought he was paranoid but…well, I guess not.”

“Wil said he thought it was Dahl.”

“It could be,” Vaughn mused, stroking his son’s face, “but I’m watching the video feeds as we speak. I don’t think this is a full blown invasion, I think its…well, I think they were just trying to assassinate Jack. But it’s weird, they didn’t even make it off the docks before they were picked up by the AI programming.”

“That is weird,” Rhys agreed, frowning, “seems kind of half-assed, doesn’t it?”

Dahl had been making some major moves lately. After taking Tantalus, they’d done the same with Pandora. Well, no one could really _take_ Pandora, but they had completely destroyed Atlas’ outposts there. Losing Pandora, along with Tantalus, and a smaller but very rich mining world called Pallas, had left the once sprawling company with no other option but to declare bankruptcy. Even with the loss of his arm, the fact that Rhys had made it out alive put in him on a selective and rather limited list of Atlas upper management that had. The Omega had done his best to recruit those that survived, but most were still so fanatically loyal to Atlas that it was pointless to even do more than send an offer letter and expect it to be ignored.

“I dunno, dude. Something about this whole thing doesn’t sit right. I’m safe at home, the attacks are nowhere near me, but are you sure you’re going to be okay?”

“I’ll be fine,” Rhys soothed, sending his worried friend a smile. “I’ve got my guards and you know these rooms are basically escape pods. I can always jet if something bad happens and wait for the cavalry to pick me up.”

“Okay, well that’s a relief. So are we still on for Sat-”

“Oh, hold on Vaughn. I’ll call you back, that’s Jack. Maybe it’s over?”

Vaughn eyes narrowed as leaned forward, pushing his glasses up as he stared at his computer screens. “Doesn’t look over. Call me back, bro.”

“Will do. Stay safe, okay?” Rhys waited for the promise before switching over. The sound of gunfire met his ears first, then the welcomed sound of his mate cursing up a storm.

“Stupid, fucking, grandpa raping – Rhysie! Baby, tell me you did as you were told?”

“I’m in a safe room right now, the one by the central offices.” Rhys promised, trying not to wring his hands nervously as he took in the angry and scuffed looking face of his Alpha. “I…uh, sent Axton and Wil to you.”

“Yeah, I kind of noticed. We’re gonna have a _looooonnnng_ conversation about your listening skills when this is over.” Jack threatened as he swung around a corner, the assault rifle in his hand unloading. When he ducked back he pointed threatening at the echo camera. “You keep your pretty little ass right there and wait for me, kapesh cupcake? You don’t leave that room till I come and get you.”

“I promise, just concentrate on the fighting Jack. We’re fine, we’re both fine.” Rhys sent him a small smile, “remember we have those reservations at the steak house tonight. Don’t make us late.”

“Ah, hell hunny, don’t you worry your cute little head about that. Handsome Jack is never late.”

“Liar.” Rhys said with a laugh, but his tease cut off when Jacqueline was suddenly launched backward, the punch of a laser beam cutting through the door and slicing through her stomach making Rhys blanche. He ducked to the side, vomiting heavily as his stomach cramped, and felt the baby shift, upset, in response.

“Rhys? Baby, what the hell is happening?”

“J-Jacqueline, a laser – oh. Oh. Um.” Rhys held his hands up slowly, eyes wide, “please don’t shot?”

On the other side of the line, Jack let out a furious bellow just before a concentrated EP knocked out Rhys’ echo-com. In front of him, the Dahl Commando gave him a wicked smile. “Well, aren’t you pretty all pump.” He kicked his radio on, head tilted to the side. “I’ve got the package, launching pod now.”

Oh. Suddenly everything made sense. This wasn’t an invasion, or even an assassination. It was a kidnapping. Of _Rhys._ Pregnant and vulnerable, Jack would do anything to get his mate and pup back. It was so stunningly simple that Rhys could have kicked himself for not realizing the ploy earlier. There was a jerk as the escape pod disembarked and then shot off. The last thing Rhys felt before fainting was pure irritation; Jack was never going to let him live down sending Wilhelm and Axton away.

Never.

* * *

“Look,” Rhys said sullenly from where he was resting uncomfortably on his seat, arms bound awkwardly in front and around his belly, “this really isn’t going to end well for you.”

“Shut up, Omega.”

“No, look. I’m actually trying to be generous here. You can just go. There’s enough oxygen masks for all of you. You can just slip them on, float over to wherever the hell your ships are, and just leave. I won’t even tell Jack what you look like.”

“Quiet,” a different, surly Alpha grunted, “or I’ll make you be quiet.”

Rhys sighed, letting out a groan as he tried to get more comfortable. “Do you think this is the first time I’ve been kidnapped? Because it isn’t, it really isn’t. Okay, I give props for getting me off the actual station, but this isn’t going to end well. Jack’s going to kill every one of you. It’s going to be long. It’s going to be _very_ long. If you’re very unlucky, he’ll let Wilhelm have a go at you. I’m telling you, you may not know the guy but he’s got some serious issues he needs to work through.”

“I’m not going to tell you again,” the third Alpha said, rolling his shoulders. “Shut the fuck up, or I’ll shut you up for you.”

“Gonna hit a pregnant Omega, big man?” Rhys asked, adrenaline giving him far more overconfidence than he probably ought to have. The Alpha’s expression morphed into a wickedly perverse one that Rhys was all too familiar with. “Anything you stick in my mouth, I’m going to bite off. That’s a promise.”

The Alpha’s face shifted to murderous, but one of his comrades smacked him – hard – over the head. “Don’t be a dick, Carl.”

“Yeah, Carl. Don’t be a dick.” All things considered, Rhys should have seen the backhand coming. Rhys spit out a mouthful of blood, glaring at the Alpha. “God, Carl. Who taught you how to hit? My three-month-old godson can hit harder than that. You know what? Forget what I said. There’s no way out now. Jack is going to _destroy_ you guys.” 

“You’re awfully confident about that, aren’t you Omega?” The first Alpha, a Dahl captain, asked with a sharp smile. The pod shook once before going still; they were being drawn into something. “Considering you’re about to be knee-deep in Dahl territory, Hyperion.”

Rhys’ head cocked to the side before flashing them a winning smile, eyes wide and bright. “Think again, _Alpha._ You feel that vibration pattern? That’s Hyperion tech, baby. Looks like I’m going home.”

“Shit – he’s right!” The second Alpha shouted, punching something desperately into the escape pod’s controls.

“You should probably just give up and enjoy your last few moments alive. Have a smoke, normally I’d object because – well, pregnant and all – but who am I deny dying men their last mortal comforts?”

“Shut your fucking mouth!” Carl shouted, his entire face turning red as he rubbed his hand desperately on his leg. He was trying to get Rhys’ blood off his knuckles, the Omega realized with a cackle. Good luck with that, he thought darkly, Jack’s nose was something else. Carl was dead the moment he’d taken Rhys, much less actually put his hands on him. The pod shook once before jerking forward, the familiar feelings of locking mechanisms clamping down a balm to Rhys’ frayed nerves.

“I did try to warn you guys, in all fairness.” The Omega said glibly, his easy smile and bravado hiding the tenseness in his muscles and the fear that still made his heart race. “I mean, you had to know that you were – Jack!”

Rhys interrupted himself, his confidence disappearing in a breath at the sight of his frantic mate tearing the pod door open. He ignored the sight of an enraged Wilhelm and Axton tearing into the offending Alphas, Wilhelm taking two down with one great swipe of his hands, and launched himself forward. Jack caught him at once, holding him in a bone-crushing hug even with his belly, and Rhys hid his face in his mate’s shoulder.

“Damn, cupcake. Keeping you out of danger is a fulltime friggin’ job. How the hell did you survive so long without me?” Jack asked, his tone light even as his hand slid between them, yanking his wrist bindings off before pressing gently, but with a touch of desperation, over Rhys’ full stomach. “How’s my girl?”

“She’s fine.” Rhys said softly, “but that big one – Carl – he scared her when he hit me.” The growl that escaped Jack’s chest the Omega swore he could feel in his very bones, and when the Alpha moved to turn from him, Rhys held on tighter. “Later. They’re not going anywhere. T-Take me home, Handsome. I’m…I’m tired.”

Jack was tense in his grip, Rhys could practically feel the rage burning off his skin, but after a moment the Alpha relaxed, his hand coming up to card through the soft hairs of Rhys’ neck. “Sure thing, Kitten. We’ll get the doc up to check on you, then we can have a nice nap.”

“The reservations-” Rhys started half-heartedly as he was led from the pod.

“I’ll get the food delivered.”

“Pashans on 389 doesn’t deliver.”

“For me they do.” Jack said with a grin, guiding Rhys through a trashed looking hallway towards the elevator that would take them to their private floors. It wasn’t until they were inside, the doors slid shut, that Rhys finally relaxed. He leaned heavily into Jack’s side, an arm curled tightly around the Alpha’s waist.

“So, you think eight is my lucky number? Think I’ve filled up my attempted kidnapping quota for the year?’ He asked softly, finally feeling the stress of the day as his body trembled.

“Better fucking be,” Jack muttered, “you’re turning my hair grey, cupcake.”

“You’re a silver fox,” Rhys assured quietly, “very handsome.”

“I’m doing a total overhaul of security tonight.” The Alpha announced, tone uncharacteristically serious, “first Atlas’ half-assed attempt,” (they’d tried to reclaim him, Rhys’ knowledge of their company priority and classified materials ran to deep for them not to try, but they'd never even made it onto the station), “than that dickwad Blake and his crony,” (Blake had been the VP before getting booted so Rhys could have the job, and Vasquez had been some random kiss ass who’d been stupid enough to go along with his plan to trick Jack into an isolated place and assassinate him), “then fucking _Nisha-”_

“Hey, that was your hang up not mine. And if you had just told me that you had a jealous ex on Pandora, I would never have agreed to go down for the testing.” Rhys defended with a roll of his eyes.

“Like I was to know she gave that much of a shit. Then the mercenaries on Eden-5-”

“Again, not my fault.”

“ – and Eden-4, and Hera, and of _course_ you had to go back to Prometheus, like some triumphant returning Whore-Queen to announce your pregnancy-”

“Jack, for the last time - I was never a whore. And they’re my family; Thomas was more of a father than my own ever was and he was on his actual, literal death bed and-”

“You’re never leaving the apartment again without a fucking _fleet_ of security.”

“Jack,” Rhys sighed as the doors opened and they stepped onto their residential floor. “We both knew the danger I’d be in as your mate. This is the only the second time anyone has ever managed to touch me on Helios. You already don’t let me planet side without you anymore and I trust you. I know you’re going to find out whatever backdoor or glitch in the security system – or traitor – they used to get in. It’s going to be fine.”

“How the hell can you say that?” Jack snapped, pulling away from him to storm over to the bar, bypassing the glass completely to take a swig from the bottle. “You’re _mine._ You’re _mine_ and people think they can just – just _waltz_ in here and touch you. Eight times, Rhys? How the hell is that fine?”

Okay.

Rhys was not in the mood to pander to Jack’s hysterical rages. His back hurt, his feet hurt, his hands had swelled up from the bindings and his jaw and lip ached something terrible. He was nine months pregnant with the most active child on this side of Elpis, who insisted on sleeping all day and staying alert all night, kicking Rhys awake to keep her company and he was _not in the mood._

“You’re right,” he said coldly, “it’s not. In a month I’m going to have a baby. _Your_ baby. And she’s going to be small and tiny, and weak, and more vulnerable than anything you’ve ever touched, much less looked at. I don’t care if someone kidnaps me, you always get me back before they ever have me long. I don’t even mind being hit – I’ve lost an arm, Jack. Pain isn’t quite the same after something like that. But our daughter is totally dependent on us to keep her safe. On you to keep her safe. And if ‘Handsome Jack’ can’t do it, well what’s the point of even having her if she’s just going to be killed off? So get your shit together, go over every inch of code and security protocol with a fine comb – because Lord knows I have and I can’t see how they got in – and _fix it.”_ He finished with a sneer of distaste, moving past a stonily silent Jack towards the couch, pulling his sweater off as he went. He paused, letting it drop onto the floor. “And get my steak order with extra garlic bread.”

There was a whisper of movement, the only warning Rhys had of Jack’s movement, and suddenly the Alpha was there, a hand curling threatening around the Omega’s neck. Jack’s eyes burned with the same, frantically unreasonable gleam that Rhys had come to associate with his mate's more eccentric moments. Rhys made himself not react, even as the hand tightened threateningly. “You’ve got some balls talking to me like that, kitten. You forget just who wears the pants in this relationship? Everything you have, you have because _I gave it to you.”_

Rhys felt his own eyes narrow, but he’d had more than enough practice with dealing with this part of Jack. The strange, unbalanced side that had come with his rise to power, that megalomania that came with being responsible for the deaths of so many people only to be rewarded for it. “Then act like it.” Rhys said quietly, a hand pressing protectively over his belly despite his refusal to show any weakness to Jack’s aggressiveness. “Protect me, Alpha, protect our daughter.”

The movement seem to break the momentary madness, the hand on his throat releasing and sliding down his front to rest over his stomach. The instability was replaced with the unrelenting determination and fierce brilliance that had gotten Jack Connell to the top so quickly. “Oh don’t worry, cupcake. I will. Just don’t come bitching to me when you see your new security protocols.”

Rhys gave him a smile, reaching up to press a kiss against his mouth. “I promise I won't. Now, I’m going to shower real quick, I can still smell them on me. Come get me when the doctor shows up? And my order-”

“Yeah, yeah. Extra bread, I got it. Go on, pumpkin. Pamper yourself.”

Rhys gave him another kiss before padding off, glancing over his shoulder with a grin as he found Jack already on the line with the restaurant. Jack most certainly wore the pants in their relationship, no question. But Rhys wasn’t without power either. He stepped into the shower, revealing in the hot water, and ran his hands over his stomach, feeling his daughter kick around inside. Silently he promised the tiny Omega to show her this, to show her just how advantageous being an Omega could be. Rhys was going to be a mother – an Oma! He couldn’t wait. He had so many things he wanted to show her, to teach her. He wanted to raise her the same he'd been raised - aware and alert of the boundaries and social norms that limited her, but with all the knowledge and confidence to bypass them. He wanted her to know the inherit strength that all Omegas were born with. Rhys wanted so much for her, wanted everything for her. What was the point of all the back stabbing and social climbing if he couldn't do that? Rhys hadn't spent the better part of nearly two decades - hadn't clawed his way out of a Promethean whore house, escaped the fall-out of Atlas, and mated one of the most powerful Alphas in the known systems to accept anything less. 

He couldn’t wait to meet his daughter; he couldn’t wait to meet his Angel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it.
> 
> The baby is, in fact, Angel. I leave whether or not they live happily ever after to you. The other, darker ending, follows cannon a bit more closely. That is, Angel is a siren, and she kills inadvertently her mother sending Jack down the proverbial rabbit hole. Or not. They could just live as one big, happy family, and Angel and Holden could run off together and get married to Jack's horrified fury and Rhys' never ending joy at having Vaughn and his lines merged forever.
> 
> It's up to you.


End file.
